


You saved me from myself

by Tattoolwt



Category: Best Song Ever - One Direction (Music Video), One Direction (Band)
Genre: Addiction, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Bottom Louis, Depression, Fanfiction, Gay, Love Stories, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Original Character(s), Originally Posted Elsewhere, Rehabilitation, Suicidal Thoughts, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:14:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 43,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24311113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tattoolwt/pseuds/Tattoolwt
Summary: Louis used to spend every night drinking himself unconscious. He wanted to escape his life, his surroundings, he wanted to escape himself.Marcel, Edward and Harry are siblings working at the same rehab home. Marcel is the doctor, Harry the nurse, and Edward the therapist. They started the family business fresh out of med school, knowing that they wanted to spend their lives helping others.Their days went by as usual, until one night when a boy walked through their door. A boy who looked broken beyond repair, a boy who would end up saving them just as much as they saved him.The only question is, will it last?
Relationships: Edward Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Marcel/Edward Styles/Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Marcel/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 7
Kudos: 86





	1. Chapter 1

Prologue 

His vision was getting blurry. He did not know if it was from tears or the copious amount of Jack Daniel's that he had just downed, Louis did not know, nor did he really care.

He sat with his back against the wall, the steel of his radiator digging into his thinning back, leaving red marks on his pale, almost bluish skin; but he did not care.

He wondered vaguely how he could have ended up like this. He had a great upbringing, his parents had been really loving and caring. His sister had been like any sister, teasing him for anything and everything, but at the end of the day she would always crawl into his bed at night and hug him tightly. In turn he had been like any older brother, teasing her but being ready to smash anyone's face in that lay a finger on her. He was the only one allowed to tease her, no one else had that right.

Louis let out a huff of humorless laughter. It is a funny thing, life. How is can suddenly become was so easily. How one second of lost concentration can make the people he cared about the most in the entire world go from is, to was.

He took another swing of his bottle of Jack, before placing it on the floor among balled up bills that were due ages ago and letters from the bank reminding him painfully of his debts. He had lost count long ago of what number that bottle was, but Louis did not care.

He drew his knees up to his chest and put his head in his arms, trying to stop the world spinning around him. As he listened to the white noice of sirens from police cars and ambulances in the distance, he was out to the world.

...

Marcel walked briskly through the corridor, trying to reach his office as quickly as possible without running, he didn't want to stress the patients in the quiet rooms lining the hall.

He reached his office just as his phone rang. He took a second to try and calm his racing heart before answering.

"SRYA, Doctor Marcel Styles speaking." He said.

He listened to the person on the other line, writing down the details he was given on a yellow post-it note.

"Mhm, yes I understand." He said. "Send her over with the transport and I'll have some nurses set up her room. Can you send over her medical records too? Okay, great." He then hung up, sitting down in his office chair with an exhausted huff.

He pressed the call button on his office phone as he lifted it to his ear again. A few tones went by before Harry picked up. "We have a girl coming in with the transport at entrance B in twenty minutes, can you get someone to ready room 305 for her and then go meet the transport?" Marcel said quickly as he clicked onto his mail to read the girl's medical records.

"I'm on it," Harry said immediately. "Name, age, and status?"

"Delilah, nineteen, abusing morphine and very unstable. We will have to keep a close eye on her." Marcel ticked of from his notes.

"Okay, I'll go meet her take her tests and then I'll page you." Harry nodded, pocketing his phone and dealing instructions to the other nurses. Since it was his business, they listened to him as if he was their boss, when technically Marcel was.

"Liam, Clara, car you go ready room 305 for me please? We have a girl coming in around ten minutes." He said, the two nurses nodded and rushed off towards the room.

He then turned to the last nurse standing to the side, waiting to see if she was needed. "Amy, can you go fill Edward in, please." He asked her. "And I'll go meet up with the transport?"

"Absolutely, Harry. I'll find you when he's informed, what entrance?"

"Great, entrance B." Harry smiled gratefully at her before walking towards said entrance to greet the girl.

It always hurt him when patients came in with their life in shatters at their feet and no one to turn to, but it always hurt just a little extra when it was really young people. This poor girl was nineteen. A few years ago, and that could have been him.

He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. He had to remain professional. If they were lucky, they could help her. This poor girl could do great in rehabilitation, she could be out in six months continuing to live her life to the fullest with a new lifestyle.

He got out in the chilly autumn air just as the car rolled up, and two ambulance nurses jumped out, followed by a frail and thin looking girl.

"Hi," Harry said softly. "Welcome to Styles' rehabilitation for young adults."


	2. Ch. 1

"Louis please," Niall pleaded. "You can't keep doing this to yourself, it's destroying you from the inside,"

"Go away, Niall." Louis said softly, voice hoarse from days of no use.

"Please, Lou. It wasn't your fault." Niall said. He pained for his best friend, he always got like this during this time of the year.

"Just leave me alone, okay?" Louis dug his blunt nails into his forearms, willing the tears to stop. When it did not help, he banged his clenched fists into the wall. He was so frustrated, he wanted to feel something. He was sick of being numb. He had tried everything, but just as with the alcohol, it worked for a while and then he was back to feeling...empty. Just like a hollow shell, and he despised it.

"Lou, please." Niall pleaded one last time, he was not going to give up on his best friend, but it was starting to feel hopeless. "Don't do this to yourself. It's killing you, seriously."

The corners of Louis' lips tugged upwards in a small smile. A quote he had seen scribbled on a park bench where he sometimes slept to avoid his landlord resurfaced in his mind:

Death is alive and eating you from within.

Louis closed his eyes, but said nothing. He listened to the sound of Niall walking back down the hall towards the elevator. Then, everything was quiet again.

Louis pushed himself up on his feet, leaning against the wall until the world had stopped spinning, then went back to sit with his back against the radiator. It was the only place in his crappy apartment where the freezing November air didn't chill him to his bones, but for how long, he did not know. He had not paid his rent the last two months, he did not have the money, and no less the income, it was just a matter of days now before his landlord would chuck him out.

He banged his head against the steel bars of the radiator in frustration, more angry tears finding their way down his hollowed cheeks. Burning his cold skin. What was he going to do?

...

A knock on his door made Edward look up. In the doorway stood Harry, his by-some-minutes younger brother.

"Yes?" He asked as Harry stepped into his office.

"We have a new patient in for morphine abuse, and I wondered if you have time for a session with her first thing tomorrow morning, check how she's holding up?" Harry asked, straightening out his light blue scrubs.

"One second, I'll check my schedule." Edward clicked up all his appointments on his computer screen. "I should be free at nine, does that work?"

"Perfect," Harry smiled, exiting to go and inform the new patient.

Edward let out a sigh, leaning back in his office chair and rubbed his tired eyes with his hands. They tell you how hard being a therapist is in school, but nothing can really prepare you for the strain on your own mind. But, he and his younger brothers had decided long ago that they wanted to help people, no matter the price. And so the Styles' Rehabilitation for Young Adults, or SRYA, came into existence. It was rather new, just a mere two years old, but already they had helped youths with various problems. They also found out that it really is worth all the hard work when they could say goodbye to a patient who was finally put together after falling apart god knows how many times to go out in the world and re-start their lives.

He stood up, picked up his notepad, and went to meet a patient. This was all worth the strain, he told himself.

...

Louis woke up with a jolt, breathing hard with sweat covering his face and chest. It had happened again, the dream.

He stared wildly around him until his brain caught up with the rest of him, and he realised that he was still laid on his thin mattress with only his threadbare blanket to shield his frail body. He sat up with a groan. Ignoring the rumble of his stomach, he stumbled his way to his small kitchenette to pour himself a glass of water.

I don't know how much longer I can survive this, he thought to himself as he let the cold water soothe his nerves and calm his never stopping racing mind.

It had all felt so real, the laughter of his little sister, the smile on his parents' faces, the darkness that engulfed them, it had felt too real.

Louis put his hands over his face, gliding down the wall until he sat on the floor, to weak and too tired to move. This is it, he thought. This is the end. The park bench swam into his mind's eye once more.

Death is alive and eating you from within.

And maybe there was no more to eat; maybe he had become too macerated, too frail, too lost. Maybe there was no more, and maybe that was for the best, he thought as he let the darkness swallow him.

...  
It was light outside next time Louis' eyes opened. At first he was not sure if he was still alive, he did not know how he could be. The excruciating agony that had found a permanent resting place within him should be enough to torture anyone to death.

It took a few moments before he realised what had woken him. Someone was banging forcefully on his front door, and by the sound of it, had been for a while. Louis stood up slowly, once again leaning against the wall until the world stopped turning before his eyes, he really needed to eat soon.

"I'm coming," he said, voice barely keeping together.

"It's Anderson!" Came an angry voice from the other side of the door, making Louis freeze in his steps. Damn it.

He looked down on his sweater and joggers that covered his body, both looking well used with a few holes here and there. Hanging off of his frame and in need of a good wash. With a sigh, he reached forwards and opened the door to face his landlord.

"Yes, Mr. Anderson?" He tried to say as clearly as possible, nervous that his voice would crack.

"That's over two months without rent, Tomlinson. I've had enough." Anderson glared at him, being a tad shorter than Louis one could think that made him less intimidating, but Louis had never met a scarier man than Mr. Anderson.

"What do you mean?" Louis asked carefully, already knowing the answer.

"I'm throwing you out." Mr. Anderson said curtly. "I want you out by Thursday."

"But-" Louis gaped at the sour looking man. "But that's in two days, how am I going to find something new in that time?"

Mr. Anderson gave him a sweet smile. "Well that's not my problem, is it?" He said. "Out by Thursday or I'll chuck you out myself."

And with that he turned and walked down the hallway. Louis closed the door with a sigh, walking into his bathroom to splash some water in his face.

He barely dared to look himself in the mirror. His eyes were empty looking, as if his souls had left him months ago. His cheeks were hollow, and his complexion white as a ghost's. His beard was getting longer, so was his hair, almost reaching his sharp shoulders.

Louis walked over to his kitchen, grabbing the bottle of rum standing there and taking a long sip, letting the alcohol burn on its way down and give a temporary warmth to his insides, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand when he was done.

He was really screwed, wasn't he?  
...  
Today had been a pretty slow day in the Styles' rehabilitation home. They had not gotten any new patients, and luckily they only had three patients assigned to their home at the moment, one was getting to go today.

Harry put down his almost empty cup of coffee on the table, leaning back in his chair with a content sigh.

"What's gotten you so happy?" Edward wondered as he strolled into the break room, pouring coffee for himself.

"Peter is getting out today." He smiled at his brother. "He has finally been clean for two months, Marcel has given him green."

"Really?" Edward raised his brows. "That's amazing, I thought that he'd been getting better lately." He sat down opposite Harry, picking up a satsumas from the fruit bowl and started to peel it.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, that leaves us with awfully little to do, though."

"Which we should be happy for," Edward added, to which Harry hurriedly agreed.

"Of course, we don't want people in here, really, because if they're here they don't feel too good. But you haven't heard from the hospital, have you? See if they have any more patients for transfer?" He asked.

Edward shook his head. "I haven't, latest I heard they didn't have anyone in need of care right now, Marcel maybe have more information about that, they would probably call him first."

"I'll check with him." Harry stood up, his break had ended and now it was back to rather dull paperwork.


	3. Ch. 2

The days went in a dizzy blur for Louis. Not knowing up or down, he stared at the now empty bottle of rum with a churning stomach. He swore that he bought that yesterday, annoyed that it was already empty.

A loud banging on his door awoke him from his thoughts. He stood up, pushing back the bile he felt rising in his throat, then padded towards the door to answer. He already knew who it was.

"Mr. Anderson," he nodded at the man glaring at him on the other side of his doorstep.

"It's Thursday, Tomlinson." He nodded with his head towards the elevator. "Out."

Louis sighed deeply, he had expected this.

"Mr. Anderson please, it's two degrees celsius outside, at most." He said exasperatedly. "I have nowhere to go. I will freeze to death."

"As I said last I saw you, that isn't my problem, now is it? I'd advise you to get out before I call the cops on you."

Louis grunted in response, shuttling the door in Mr. Anderson's face before going to get the little stuff that he had.

He had ended up with a small duffle of his clothes and a few toiletries, as well as a small bottle of Jack Daniel's that he had shoplifted that morning. His thin little mattress had, how sad it may sound, come with the apartment, so he had to leave it there.

When he exited, Mr. Anderson met him outside, stretching out a hand expectantly that Louis dropped his keys in.

"I'm glad to see your sad ass off," Mr. Anderson scoffed. "I'm getting depressed only looking at you." And with that, he turned and walked down the hall.

Louis rolled his eyes, the words did not event affect him anymore, had not done so for years.

He drew his jean jacket tighter around himself to try and ward of the cold that was about to hit him when he went outside. The jacket was pretty nice, actually. It was light washed with what used to be white wool lining the edges, the wool had long since taken on a grayish brown tone. He had gotten it at a second hand two years ago, and regardless of how dirty and wore down it would become, he still loved it.

Louis took a deep breath to compose himself before stepping out into the darkening November afternoon. The sun was about to set and the street lamps around him had started to flicker and light up. Without really thinking, he steered his steps towards the park that he knew was nearby.

As he walked, he hummed on a song he had heard filtering out from a shop yesterday, just down the street from where he was now. The walk to the park did not take too long, and once there he haltered, not really knowing where to go next.

Looking around, he saw a park bench situated under a large tree. The tree may not have any leaves, he thought, but it would do as an okay shelter for tonight as long as it did not decide to rain.

Even though he had slept for the majority of the day, Louis was exhausted. He did not really remember the last time he had eaten, it must have been a few days ago, at least. He drained his travel sized bottle on whiskey that he had brought with him before sitting down on the bench. Since he had not eaten, the buzz and warmth from the alcohol washed over him almost instantly.

Louis felt drained and sick, tired and sore. He lay down on the bench, duffle as a makeshift pillow, and then he was dead to the world.

...

Louis woke up to someone poking him in the side with something hard. Annoyed to be woken from such a good sleep, he opened his eyes.

"Hey, boy. You can't sleep here it's public space."

After a few seconds of adjusting to the bright light from the street lamps, Louis saw a man in some kind of uniform standing above him, but Louis was not in the mood.

"Do I fucking look like I have somewhere else to go?" He stared up at the uniform clad man.

"Hey no need to use those words, kid." Said the man that Louis now realised must be a cop, to judge by his badge and hat. And noticing the baton in his hand, that must have been what he had poked Louis with to rudely wake him.

"Kid?" Louis scoffed. "Lad I'm twenty, I'm not a child."

The police scanned him with a look Louis could not really read. "Twenty, you say? What are you doing out here at such a young age?"

"Well that's not your business, is it?" Louis huffed, sitting up since this police man did not seem like leaving to let him sleep for a while.

"It may not be my business, but it's my duty to see to that you have somewhere to go." The police man sat down on the bench beside Louis. "Look, I want to help you, yeah?"

The police man picked up the small whiskey bottle that lay beside Louis, examining it before looking back at Louis. "Are you okay?" He asked

Louis sighed in defeat. "Do I look okay to you?" He didn't mean for it to sound so harsh, he was just bitter towards the world today.

"Look, I'm sorry but I can't leave you here. You can't sleep here, you know that?" The man said, looking sympathetically at Louis.

"Where do you suggest I go then? The drunken cell at your station?" Louis' voice cracked, exposing his vulnerability.

"I can escort you to a homeless shelter," the police suggested.

Louis contemplated that for a moment, before deciding that a crappy shelter would beat sleeping out in the cold by a ton.

"Okay, fine." He said standing up and following the police to his car.

After a few minutes of silent car ride they arrived in front of two steel doors reading "Lara's shelter for those without a place".

That was a nice way to say homeless, Louis thought bitterly as he stepped out of the car with his duffle. The police man escorted him to the door and knocked on it. A petite woman opened the door after a few moments, smiling sweetly at Louis.

"Hello Lara, I found this boy down in the park." The police man said, evidently knowing the small woman.

"Oh you poor, poor thing," she directed her words towards Louis. "Come in darling, I'll get you some food and a bed, yeah?"

Louis felt a jab to his heart as he walked though the door, welcoming the warm air that surrounded him. Lara gave off such a motherly aura, much like his own had.

Lara stood talking to the officer for a few more seconds before closing the door and directing her attention at Louis who stood aimlessly in the hall.

"Follow me love, we still have some food left from dinner. Today we serve pumpkin soup and toasty bread." She smiled as she walked down one of the halls, Louis following her immediately. The sound of the food made his stomach scream at him to run to it.

...

Marcel and Harry sat in the car, waiting for Edward who were leaving the status of the patients over to the night staff. Since they only had two patients, there were not too much to do, but they still needed a few nurses and a doctor to be there over night to keep everything in check.

"I bumped into Lara today," Marcel said, making Harry look up from his phone.

"Oh, I haven't talked to her in ages!" He said. "How is her shelter going?"

"It's going pretty well, I think." Marcel nodded. "She hasn't had any serious cases in a while now, which is great. But I reminded her to always call us if she needed to admit someone."

"That's good," Harry said. "I hope it stays that way... But I miss talking to her though, we should invite her for dinner sometime soon."

"We really should." Marcel agreed. "If we're really nice she might even make her famous pumpkin soup, who knows."

Hardy laughed. "I'm not too sure about that, last time she called us disgusting cavemen when we ate her soup."

"Maybe because you and Edward drank from the bowls as if they were gigantic teacups," Marcel pointed out, with an amused look on his face from the memory.

"Well it's so good, who can blame us?" Harry defender himself. "Well- she can, but you get the point. Maybe if we promise to behave she can come over sometime."

"We can only hope," Marcel nodded.

At that moment Edward hopped into the drivers seat, driving the three of them home after yet another long day at the rehab.

...

Louis sat atop the bed that he'd been assigned at the home. He stared down at his hands, they were shaking uncontrollably and every inch of his skin was itching. He pressed his nails into his forearms to try and focus on something else, but it just did not work.

He had to get something. Something to numb, to shut out the memories, the screams, the sight of the blood. So, so much blood.

Standing up on shaky legs, he sneaked off towards the kitchens. He was nervous, one of the first things Lara had told him was that no one was to enter the kitchen at all, and that was just what he was about to do.

Standing on the tip of his toes, he managed to see through the window in the door leading to the kitchen. When he saw no one in there, he pushed open the door as quietly as he could and sneaked inside.

Scanning the area, he decided to check the pantry first, and smiled when he hit jackpot immediately. At the bottom of the pantry stood a half empty bottle of white wine, probably used in a stew or something recently. With a slight twinge of guilt, he picked up the bottle and drank as quickly as he could. A wave of relief washing over him as the burning liquid raced down his throat and out in his bloodstream.

"Louis?"

The soft voice made him jump, dropping the bottle and making it smash, wine splattering the tiled floor.

"Lara, I-" He did not know what to say, the sweet woman looked so disappointed. Not angry, but disappointed in him, which was even worse.

"I told you before that no one was allowed in here, and now you're here-" she looked down at the smashed bottle and its contents. "Drinking wine?"

"I am so sorry," Louis gulped. "I just- I couldn't contain myself." He looked down at his feet in shame.

"Love it's okay, take these and come over to me, okay?" She was holding the pair of Birkenstock's that had been on her feet moments ago. "So you don't step on the glass." She explained.

Louis took the shoes and put them on his wool sock clad feet, also courtesy of Lara. He stepped carefully over the glass until he stood in front of the squat woman.

"I can get a broom and-" he tried to offer but Lara interrupted him.

"Don't worry about that, I'll have someone take care of it." She smiled sweetly, which made Louis feel even worse about what he had done.

"Take a walk with me, yes?" Lara suggested, nodding towards the hallway.

Louis followed her, as they walked slowly down the hall, Lara spoke again.

"Look, you seem like a wonderful young boy and it really pains me to say this..." She stopped, Louis did too. "Louis, you have a problem." She stated. "There is no way to sugar coat it, you're going through clear signs of withdrawal right now."

Louis stiffened. "No I'm not," he shook his head. "I'm just coming down with something."

"Darling, you have to understand that I've been doing this for years. I know abstinence signs when I see them." She gestured down to his hands which he had clenched by his sides in an effort to stop them from trembling.

"I don't want to have a problem," he whispered, his voice shaking.

"Can I hug you?" Lara asked, and when he gave a small nod, she enveloped him in her arms tightly. Louis' sobs intensified when he put his cheek against her shoulder. He could not explain how, but Lara smelled like home and safe, and like a mom, almost.

"It's going to be okay, darling." She rocked them back and forth. "I know a place where you can go. It's all going to be okay."

And she held the devastatingly broken boy in her arms as he cried into her shoulder.


	4. Ch. 3

"A... Rehab home?" Louis squinted at the sign in front of the house through the car window. "Lara, I'm not too sure about this."

Lara looked at Louis sadly. "Dear, I promise they're nice in there. Three lovely young guys are running the place, I know them. They will not judge you, or make you do anything that you don't want to. You are going to be completely safe, please just give it a try." She pleaded.

Louis sighed, he had broken into her kitchen and stolen from her right after she told him not too, she had taken him in and given him food and a bed. He kind of owed her.

"Fine," he mumbled, opening the car door and stepping out.

He looked at the house in front of him, it looked nice, he just did not know how being in a home would help him. He would still be fucked up, only around a different set of people, fresh new eyes to judge him. But he would try, for Lara he would. He waved at her as she drove away, and then it was just him.

It had already started to get a little bit brighter; the sun would be up soon. The whole night had been one entire big mess. From being thrown out of his apartment, to sleeping on a park bench, to landing himself in a homeless shelter, and now here.

With one last big sigh to try and collect himself, he stepped up to the house and opened the door.

When he came inside, he was greeted with a very inviting reception area with a kind looking guy behind the reception desk, seemingly reading some sort of paperwork. The room was painted in a soft off-white colour with a light blue and green accent wall. Plants were scattered on tables and in windowsills, making the room feel more home-y and less like a rehab centre. Louis looked around, seeing a few people in white robes and blue scrubs walk one way or another, the sight making his heart drop down to his feet. He was not going to be treated by doctors, he was not sick.

He turned around on his heel immediately, he needed out. Just as he was about to push the door open and escape out of there, he heard a voice behind him.

"Good morning, my name is Liam. Can I help you with anything?"

He turned around, seeing the guy from the reception desk look at him with kind, brown eyes.

"Uhm, no thanks. I think I'm in the wrong place." Louis mumbled, not wanting to meet the guy's eye.

"Are you sure?" Liam said hesitantly, standing up so that he could see Louis clearer over the desk. "I don't want to be rude or anything, but you look like you could need a little help. What's your name?"

Louis would have been offended, if it was not for the fact that the guy sounded so nice. Besides, causing a scene in here would most likely not lead to him managing to escape. 

"Louis, and I'm- Fine." Louis' now felt his rapidly beating heart in his ears, he had to get out. Out, out, out.

"Look," Liam clasped his hands together on top of the reception desk. "I really don't want to pry mate, but I do think you meant to walk in here. Am I wrong?"

Louis said nothing, which seemed like a sufficient answer for Liam.

"Thought so. Now, what can I help you with?" He smiled warmly.

Louis breathed shakily, how could he get out of this in a smart way? That Liam bloke seemed to be able to read him like a book no matter what he said.

"I-" Louis turned to bolt for the door, but only managed to take two steps before he stumbled straight into someone.

The man, thankfully, caught him before he could fall and hit the floor.

Louis let out a surprised sound. "Oh, oops."

The man smiled at him; he was still holding him tight in his arms to steady him. "Hi."

"I am so sorry," Louis said, feeling very flustered. "I was just about to lea-"

"You don't happen to be Louis, perhaps?" The man said, releasing him when he noticed that Louis had found his balance again.

"No I'm-" Louis began, but was interrupted by Liam.

"I don't know if he's the Louis you're looking for, Harry, but he's a Louis." Liam smiled.

Fucking snitch.

"What's your last name?" The insanely tall man that Louis had now learned was Harry, asked.

"Tomlinson," Louis muttered, not seeing a reason to lie anymore.

"Then you are the Louis I'm looking for," Harry smiled brightly, showing rows of pearly white teeth.

"Excuse me? How do you even know who I am?" Louis questioned, he had to tilt his head backwards slightly to be able to look at the man when they were this close. He had to be six feet, at least.

"Lara drove you here, didn't she?" Harry asked.

"She did- But...How do you know her?" Louis was so confused.

"I'll explain later. Now, let's get you signed in." Harry put a hand on his shoulder, leading him over to Liam.

For Lara, Louis thought as he let Liam write down all of his information.

***

"I'm almost starstruck," Harry sighed as he sat down in his usual chair in their brake room.

"By who?" Edward asked, not looking up from his paper where he was doing today's crossword.

"Our newest patient." Harry held his hands tight around his mug of coffee, trying to warm them up. "I don't know what it is... We stumbled into each other earlier and I had to catch him from falling and when I held him in my arms, even though it was for a short time, something just felt... Right, you know?"

At that, Edward looked up. "We have a new patient? Since when?"

"An hour ago," Harry answered, sipping his warm beverage.

"And you haven't told me yet because...?" Edward asked, wanting Harry to fill in the blank.

"Because he doesn't want to talk to anyone. And I felt flinging a therapist on him would be kind of rude." Harry explained. "I called Lara, she apparently sent him here. He doesn't really want to be here at all, he doesn't think that he needs any help."

"Oh, he's one of those, then." Edward nodded, thinking. "gonna be a hard nut to crack, you reckon?"

Harry hummed in agreement, taking another sip from his mug.

It happened that they got patients that were there because someone in their vicinity had sent them. It could be the patient's family or friends, but mostly those kinds of patients came from the hospital. They were very difficult for him as a therapist to take care of, since it was near impossible to help someone that did not want help.

Edward looked back at Harry, who smiled, looking out into nothingness looking very content.

"And what's gotten you so happy, then?" He shook his head in amusement when his voice had seemed to rip Harry from his thoughts.

"I don't want to say," Harry mumbled. To Edwards astonishment, his brother seemed to be blushing.

"Well, now you have to tell me, sweetcheeks." He teased.

"You're gonna make fun of me," Harry whined.

"I will most likely do that, yes." Edward shrugged. "But, I am your older brother, so what did you really expect?"

"Fine," Harry groaned dramatically. "I kind of think that Louis is very cute."

"And you had one of those 'love at first sight' type of moments with him when you bumped into each other?"

Harry nodded again

"Well that's too bad, brother. You know the rules, yes?" Edward asked.

"No friendly nor romantic relationship is allowed between patient and employee," Harry grumbled, reciting the rule from their contract perfectly.

"Precisely, good boy." Edward ruffled his brother's hair as he stood up to leave. "Now go and try to talk to him, see if you can find out why he's here. If we don't know what's wrong, we can't help." He said before closing the door to the room.

Harry nodded, even though Edward could not see him. He too stood up, putting his empty cup in the dishwasher before walking to Louis's room.

When he arrived in front of room 365, he knocked lightly. When no sound came from inside, he peaked inside. Louis was sitting on his bed, clenching and unclenching his fists.

"Louis?" Harry asked, making the small boy jump.

"What?" He grumbled, looking back down at his hands.

"Can I come in?" Harry asked.

"If you really want to, I guess." Louis huffed.

Harry went inside, closing the door shut behind him before situating himself in the chair by Louis's bed. He looked the boy up and down, noting how thin he was. The clothes he had gotten when signed in, a long sleeved shirt and sweatpants, hung very loose on him even though they had gotten him the smallest pair they had. His face looked sunken in and he had halfmoon shaped marks lining both sides of his underarms, the shirt being rolled up to the elbows, they were painfully visible.

"Can I have a look at those?" Harry asked carefully, gesturing to the marks.

"I'd really rather if you'd not." Louis tried to keep his voice steady, but having people this close to him when he felt at his weakest was hard. He did not want to cry in front of anyone, especially this Harry guy.

"Please, Louis. One of those marks look a little infected." Harry's eyes had stuck on one particularly deep mark in his skin that looked red and swollen.

Louis hesitated. Harry did look nice enough, and if his arm really was infected, maybe he should get that sorted out sooner rather than later. Now that he mentioned it, that arm was a little sore. He gave a small nod, to which Harry smiled.

Harry stood up, exited the room and popped into the code-locked supply closet next to Louis' room to get wipes, disinfectant and some plasters, washing his hands thoroughly before returning to room 365.

"Here, let me take a look." He sat down beside Louis on the bed, placing one of Louis' pillows in his lap for Louis to rest his arm on.

Louis squeezed his eyes shut when Harry prodded carefully at the mark in his arm, it did sting a lot, but he would rather die than letting anyone know that.

"Ow," he let out a small whine as Harry touched an extra sensitive part.

"I'm sorry, love. It will be over soon. I just need to clean this properly." Harry apologized, dabbing the wound as carefully as he could.

Louis pressed his lips together, nodding. He decided instead to focus on Harry's large, warm hands on his thin, cool skin, and the rhythmic sound of Harry's calm breathing. He tried to breathe with him. In, and out. In, and out.

A little too soon, his touch was gone, a plaster now in place.

"There, all done and patched up." He smiled.

Louis looked down on his arm, and then up at Harry.

"Thanks," Louis smiled shyly.

"No problem," Harry said. "Do you want to tell me how all these cuts got here?"

"I don't know, really..." Louis trailed off.

Harry looked down, seeing Louis's hands twitch towards his underarms. He also noticed that the boy had rather long nails.

"Is it possible that you dig your nails into your arms when you're stressed or frustrated?" He guessed, the look that took over Louis' face was all the answer he needed. He nodded in understanding.

"You're too good," Louis glared at him, Harry snorted.

"You look like a little puppy when you're glaring, you're not that intimidating I'm afraid."

"Oh, shut up," Louis huffed, but a small smile played on his lips. Maybe this Harry guy wasn't all that bad.

"Look, I understand that all of this is very hard for you since you obviously don't want to be here, therefore I won't pressure you. But can you promise me that when you feel up to telling me what you need, you come find me, or anyone else in the staff, okay?" Harry said, studying the small boy for a reaction.

"I don't want to talk to anyone else but you," Louis mumbled. He had not meant to say it at all, but Harry had heard.

"That's very sweet," he smiled. "I'm afraid you'll have to eventually. I'm just the nurse, you know? But I can promise you that both the doctor and therapist here are really nice, and so are the other nurses." Harry tried to assure him.

"I don't want to see a therapist," Louis could not keep the whine out of his tone.

"Tell you what. Think about it, and I can bring our therapist by later so that you can meet him, see what he's like. You don't have to say a word to him, no pressure. Is that okay?" Harry suggested.

"I guess," Louis huffed as he threw himself back down on the bed.

"Great, see you later then, Lou." Harry smiled and exited the room, happy with the progress he had made with Louis.

Louis tensed at the nickname; he had called him Lou. No one got to call him that, besides Niall, but he was special.

That also reminded him, Niall. He must be worried sick not knowing where Louis had disappeared to. Reluctantly, he stood up from the comfortable bed and padded out in the hallway.

He walked back to the reception desk, where Liam still sat.

"Hi, Louis. Can I get you anything?" Liam smiled when he saw the small boy.

"Do you have a phone that I could borrow?" Louis asked, pulling the sleeves of his sweater over his hands, nervous habit.

"Of course," Liam gave him a phone over the desk. "Here you go, you can go sit over there in the waiting room if you want a little privacy."

Louis walked over to the group of sofas that Liam was pointing to, that were empty of people at the moment.

He dialled Niall's number, knowing it by heart even though he rarely called since he had no phone of his own. A few tones went by.

"Hello, this is Niall speaking." Louis felt like he could cry at the familiar voice.

"Niall," He said in a whisper.

"Lou?" Niall gasped. "Where the hell are you? I went to your apartment only to find out that your trash landlord had thrown you out. I was worried sick not knowing where you were, if a bear had eaten you-"

"Niall!" Louis interrupted the rambling boy. "Calm down, I am alive and not bear food, okay?"

"Then where are you?" Niall demanded.

Louis looked around, as if he was going to tell his biggest secret. "In a rehab home," he said.

"Oh Lou, I am so proud of you." Niall sounded almost close to tears. "You are so brave for going there."

"Well, I barely had a choice." Louis shrugged, then he proceeded to tell Niall about everything that had happened the last twenty-four hours. It felt good venting to someone he knew, someone he trusted.

"Which one are you at?" Niall asked. "What home, I mean."

Louis pondered over that for a moment, he didn't actually remember. Then he saw the letters written on the wall under the word Reception.

"I'm at SRUA, apparently." Louis said after a while.

"They have visiting hours between noon and five. I'm working today, but I'll be with you tomorrow, okay?" Niall said, apparently already having looked up the visiting hours online.

"That's good," Louis nodded. "I'll just have to survive until tomorrow, then."

"I'm sure you can," Niall said. "Please co-operate with the people there though, Lou. Don't be too difficult."

"What do you mean?" Louis asked.

"Well, sometimes you can be a little... Stubborn. But just remember that all they're trying to do is help you, okay? No one in there want to hurt you, and if you co-operate with them, then maybe you can sort everything out."

"But Niall, they will make me speak to a therapist," Louis felt like pouting, but he refrained from it, not wanting to look like a child.

"Then talk to the therapist, Lou. I'm sure he or she won't bite you." Niall joked, making Louis release a little giggle.

"I love to hear you this happy," Niall sighed. "It really makes me glad to hear."

"Aw, Ni you're too sweet." Louis said, he really loved his best friend. "Look, I gotta go because I need to give back the phone, but we'll talk tomorrow?"

"Absolutely, see you then." Niall said.

And with that they hung up. Louis stood up from the couch, giving back the phone back to Liam before going back to his room.

Having food, a warm bed, and clothes was not too bad, he thought.


	5. Ch. 4

Louis wanted to rip his hair out. He saw it as a moment of weakness, but he had gone to find Harry and told him that he was ready to tell him what he needed, which lead them to where they were now.

"I'm so glad you came to find me, Louis." Harry smiled at him, he smiled back uncertainty, pulling his sleeves over his hands again so that he had sweater paws.

"Yeah, I talked with my friend yesterday and he told me to not be stubborn." Louis admitted, making Harry laugh a little.

"Yes, that would help us both out a lot, don't you think?"

Louis had become more comfortable with Harry since he had gotten to the home, he had fallen straight in his arms as a first impression after all.

"So, would you like to test therapy now, or do you want to wait? It's of course okay no matter what you choose." Harry asked. "If you do, we will just start with one session, and if you're not comfortable we will find something else."

Louis sighed, wringing his sleeves in his hands. "I guess there's no harm in trying," he said.

"Great, I'll go fetch the therapist really quick so that you can meet him, then you can book a session with him, sound good?" Harry stood up.

Louis only nodded, staying put on his bed and waited for Harry to come back. He was really doing this, then? Well, he thought, at least he knew someone who would be very proud of him for trying to turn his life around.

A few minutes later, Harry came back through the door with- Louis had to rub his eyes to make sure he wasn't seeing double. There were now not one, but two Harrys standing in front of him. One didn't have blue scrubs though, one of them had a white button up and black suit pants. Louis's jaw dropped, looking between the two.

"This is our therapist Edward." Harry introduced the other man. "Edward, this is Louis."

"Nice to meet you, Louis." Edward smiled kindly, reaching out his hand to Louis, who shook it, still staring between the two.

"And before you ask, yes we are pretty similar." Harry smiled knowingly.

"That's because we're brothers." Edward added. "There is one more who look like us, his name is Marcel."

"So you're...Triplets?" Louis said finally.

"Yup," Harry nodded. "We started this home together about two years ago, and we sort of run the place, but we have other people working here too."

"Anyway," Edward said, directing his attention back to Louis. "Harry told me that you were maybe thinking of trying a session with me?"

"Yeah, uhm, I'm not sure though." Louis hesitated. "I'm not sick, I mean."

"We know that you're not sick, Louis" Edward said gently, sitting down at the foot of his bed. "But there is no harm in sitting down and having a chat, see where it leads, yeah?"

Do it for her, you wuss!

"Okay, fine. One session." He decided finally.

"Great, we can take it this afternoon, is that okay?" Edward asked.

Louis only nodded, not really feeling to talk to anyone at the moment, only thinking of her and of them in general made him feel sick, like he wanted to dig a hole and bury himself there. The thought of them always made him go to his dark place.

"I really want to be by myself now, though." Louis mumbled.

The two brothers gave each other a unsure look before nodding and exiting his room, leaving him to let the tears out.

***

"How is Louis?" Marcel asked.

They sat in the break room once again, eating their lunch together as they did almost every day.

"Progressing slowly but surely, I think." Edward said, taking a bite of his sandwich.

"That's good," Marcel nodded. "You have a session with him after lunch, don't you?"

"I do," Edward confirmed.

"I really hope that we can find what's going on with him," Harry said sadly. "Lara couldn't tell me more than that she brought him here and that he needed our help, professional secrecy and all that."

"I will get it out of him," Edward assured his brother. "And we will help him."

Harry nodded, but not looking much happier. He had always been the most sensitive, in lack of better words, of the three. He took the wellbeing of his patients very seriously and it hurt him deeply when they were hurting.

Edward glanced down at his clock, seeing that it was a quarter over one.

"I need to leave to have a talk with Louis, I'll update you later." He said as he put his dishes in the sink and hurried towards his office.

"Edward told me that you fancied Louis a little," Marcel said as the door closed.

Harry groaned, putting his head in his hands. "I should never tell that man a single thing, he's such a snitch."

"He's your older brother," Marcel winked. "He's supposed to be like that."

"But you two ganging up on me is unfair," Harry pouted, only making Marcel smile wider.

"Not easy being the youngest, Hazza." He joked. "But I guess he also reminded you of the rules?"

"Yes he did," Harry groaned, already done with the subject, wishing he had not told Edward in the first place.

"And why do we have that rule?" Marcel raised a brow, as if trying to teach a toddler a lesson.

"Because we don't want another case like Jason's," Harry said with a bored tone.

"That's exactly right, good boy." Marcel said, ruffling Harry's locks to which he received a grumble from his brother and a slap attempted at his face.

"Fuck off," Harry groaned. They knew how much he hated having his hair tossed around with, it took him ages to fix it in the morning and then his idiot brothers would go ruin it.

Marcel poked his tongue out at his brother, before disappearing through the same door as Edward.

***

"So, Louis." Edward began.

"Edward," Louis answered.

"I noticed that you became a little more closed off when we were speaking before, it almost seemed like you caught yourself in the middle of a thought, and your mood changed." Edward continued.

"It did," Louis nodded, not really feeling this whole therapy thing anymore. His skin was still itching and he still had not found his way to any form of kitchen or pantry, he didn't even know if this place had alcohol, probably not.

"Want to tell me why?" Edward asked, looking at Louis over the rim of his glasses.

"Nope," Louis said simply, re-situating himself so that he sat cross legged in the plush armchair.

"Well then," Edward sighed. This was going to be a long forty-five minutes. "Is there something you would like to tell me? Let us start with how you ended up here, hm?"

"Lara drove me here, I thought Harry already told you that." Louis answered, feeling a little smug on the inside at the fleeting look of frustration in Edward's eyes, but he was good at hiding it, Louis would give him that.

"And before you met Lara?" Edward questioned.

"Hm, don't really want to discuss that, mate." Louis said, keeping up with the slightly arrogant facade, it was the easiest after all.

"You're bitter at life, aren't you?" Edward turned his head slightly to one side, examining the boy across from him.

"Yeah, no shit. I am in a rehab home, aren't I? You people think I'm fucked up, damaged in the head or something." Louis scoffed.

"We don't think you're fucked up, Louis." Edward said calmly. "And we certainly don't think you're damaged in the head, as you put it. We just think that maybe, if you want it, we can help you get back on your feet, no matter what keeps knocking you down, we can find and fix it. But only if you want us to."

Louis only glared at him. Damn these brothers and being able to read him like their damn favourite book.

"You also seem to have quite sudden mood changes," Edward noted, writing in his notebook.

"I don't," Louis said defensively.

"You do," Edward retorted. "Harry and Liam told me about how you acted when you first came in here, and then how you acted when Harry patched up your arm. You seem to have a few moods that you mainly shift between, and I think it has something to do with certain thoughts you have."

Louis drew his knees up to his chest as if they would be able to protect him from Edward reading him.

"Louis, look." Edward put his notebook down. "I don't mean to sound so harsh, but you have to understand that I am here to help, okay? And to help you specifically, I'll need to be a little harsh. It's pretty clear that you have thick walls built around you and your mind, you're closing yourself out from other people, and in order to help you I need to take those walls down. Ro do that I might have to bring in the sledgehammer. But, when the walls are down, we can find the root to all of this together, and rip that root up. Okay?"

Louis's eyes darted around the office, he needed to look everywhere besides Edward, because if he did, the waterworks would most definitely break.

"We don't need to talk about why you're here, we can talk about anything you want Louis, as long as we talk." Edward said after a moment of silence.

She would be disappointed in you if you gave up now, Louis.

"Lara said I'm going through withdrawal and that's why everything is itching." Louis looked down in his lap as he said it, he refused to look at Edward. Those green eyes would be able to see straight into his soul, he was certain.

He heard the sound of ball point pen to paper as Edward jotted some notes down, then he spoke again.

"I see, do you want to tell me what the withdrawal is from?" Edward asked, relieved that they were getting somewhere.

"Booze, I guess." Louis shrugged.

Again, the scratching sound of Edward writing it down. For some reason, that made Louis even more itchy.

"When was the last time that you drank, do you know?" Edward asked.

Louis pondered for a moment. "Last night, at Lara's." He said finally.

"And after that she brought you here?" Edward guessed.

Louis nodded, he was feeling exhausted and itchy and he just wanted to sleep and not wake up for a very long time, if at all.

"Do you want to tell me about your life in general before that?" Edward asked gently, he knew that this was sensitive territory. "Like, did you have a job, or friends?"

"No job, I lived off of financial aid from the government." Louis still refused to look into those eyes, he would not. "I had one friend, still have."

"What's this friends' name?" Edward asked, still keeping his casual tone.

"Niall, he's coming by tomorrow." Louis answered.

Edward smiled when he saw how the thin boy shone up at the mention of his friend.

Friend is Niall, makes Louis happy, he wrote down.

"Tell me more about Niall," Edward crossed his legs, taking off his glasses and studied Louis. "Like how did you two meet, for example?"

"We worked together at a diner for a short while before I quit," Louis decided to alter the truth a little tiny bit, Edward didn't have to know that he had gotten the boot. "But we hit it off pretty good."

Edward nodded. "I see, you're about the same age, I take it?"

"Kind of, he's a year younger than me." Louis said. "He's like my little brother in a way."

"Do you have any blood related siblings?" Edward asked, immediately noting how Louis tensed up. So there was the first kink he needed to work out.

"No," Louis said, but Edward guessed that it was not the whole truth.

Does not want to talk about siblings, a problem here? He noted down once again.

"Can we please stop for today? I want to sleep." Louis really wanted to crawl under his covers and never come out again, this was going to be excruciatingly painful to do, more so than he could have guessed.

"We can, thank you for giving it a try." Edward smiled when Louis finally met his eye once more. "Do you want to book another session?"

Louis nodded, might as well, Edward seemed nice enough.

"Fantastic, how about tomorrow at eleven? I can come get you after breakfast?" He suggested.

Louis nodded again; he was afraid his voice would break if he uttered another word, but Edward did not seem to mind.

"Great, you may leave Louis, take care." He smiled as Louis stood up and padded outside.

He went back to his room, number 365, and face planted on the bed with a groan. This was going to be harder than he thought. One side of him wanted to fight all of this, but the other side was screaming at the top of its lungs for help. He was more torn than he had ever been before. It was going to be a long night of nightmares ahead, he though miserably.


	6. Ch. 5

"Louis, we can't help you if you don't tell us what's wrong."

Edward was steadily getting more and more frustrated with the small boy. He had now been in the rehabilitation home for a month, and still there were no improvement. He had refused to tell anyone more than he had told Edward at their first therapy session, which had led them to where they were now, stuck in the same damn loop.

Louis just shrugged his shoulders, looking down at his glove covered hands in his lap. Marcel, the doctor of the rehab home, had put cotton gloves on Louis' hand's when it became clear that the boy could not stop digging his nails into his forearms and leaving cuts there.

Louis hated the gloves to no end; he could not scratch that unreachable itch that he felt in his body from what the doctor had called "abstinence." Louis scoffed at the thought of their previous conversation, he was not addicted to anything. He just enjoyed himself some booze from time to time, and that was all.

"Louis?" Edward snapped his fingers to try and get the boy back to the present. "You're here with me?"

Louis nodded. "I'm sitting here, aren't I?" He said.

"No need to try and sass me, I'm afraid." Edward smiled, shaking his head. "I have been doing this for years, Louis. You can try and push me away but eventually you will understand that you need our help here, and that we are good people. You don't need to push everyone away, we are not your enemies, yeah?"

Louis thought that over for a moment, these people had been nothing but nice to him so far. He had gotten a nice and soft bed, he got food three times a day plus snacks, he got to watch television, play board games, and hang around with others. He didn't do it though, he preferred his room, but they had given him the opportunity to. They did not isolate him, and yet he was resisting their help after all that? Louis thought sadly about what his mother would say if she could see him now.

"Do you have professional secrecy?" He said in a small voice, despising how weak it sounded.

"Of course I do, and I don't need to write any notes down either if that feels better." Edward said kindly, overjoyed that they were finally getting somewhere.

"Yes," Louis said, adding a "please," to not sound rude.

Edward nodded, putting his notebook and pen down on the table beside him, pushing his reading glasses up his nose and watched Louis with his undivided attention. 

"I-" Louis took a gulp of air, clearing his throat. This was going to be very hard, and oh so painful. I had a little sister, her name was Alice. She was eight years younger than me."

Edward nodded, letting Louis take his time. The poor boy looked like he was struggling. "Would you like something to drink, Louis? I have tea and water if you would like some." He suggested.

"Tea, please." Louis said, fiddling with his sweater paws.

Edward stood up, walking over to the table at the other end of his office where he had a thermos of warm water and tea bags. "Yorkshire okay?" He asked, holding up the tea bag so that Louis could see.

"That's fine." Louis sighed, thanking Edward when he reached him a steaming mug of tea.

"Tell me whatever you want, Louis. There is no pressure in here." Edward said softly, crossing his legs when he sat back down in his armchair across from Louis. "Maybe...How was Alice like?"

"She was amazing. Everyone loved her, I don't know how she did it but no matter who she met, they fell in love with her within the first minutes of meeting her. She was not very outgoing, rather shy girl, but she had a heart of gold and a soul of angels." Edward smiled at the distant look in Louis' eyes and the smile on his lips. His sister obviously made him very happy.

"Were you two alike?" He asked, being mindful of not asking too personal questions.

"No," Louis shook his head. "Not really. My mom divorced my biological dad when I was six, and then she met another guy two years later, and they got Alice together. Alice had blonde hair and freckles, but we have the same blue eyes."

Edward really wanted to ask what had happened to Louis' mom, step-dad, and little sister, but it felt a little too personal at the moment. He was afraid that Louis would close in on himself again if Edward asked that.

"And what about your mom? Were you close?" Edward asked instead.

"Very close," Louis nodded, taking a sip of his tea, the warm liquid calming his tense nerves. "We were alone for a few years, and even before that my biological dad wasn't really in the picture, so it has basically been my mother and I my entire life."

"I see," Edward nodded. "What was her name?"

"Elizabeth," Louis said. "But mostly people called her Eliza"

They were quiet for a moment before Louis opened his mouth again.

"She- She would be so disappointed in me if she saw me now." He had not really meant to say it, but now it was out there. Slipped past his lips before he had the time to stop it.

"And why do you think that?" Edward questioned.

"Oh, I don't know," Louis said sarcastically. "Maybe because I'm a complete failure that doesn't have a job, or a home, or money. I'm alone. I'm fucking twenty years old and I have nothing."

"That's not entirely true, Louis." Edward pointed out. "You may not have a job, or a home, or money for that matter, but you are not alone. You have Niall, he's still there for you, is he not? And you have us now too, okay?"

Louis resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Do I really, though? It's your job to make sure that I don't go kill myself by accident."

"It may be our job, but that doesn't mean that we don't care about you. You're special."

"I bet you say that to everyone," Louis scoffed, putting his now empty cup on the table beside Edward's notes.

"But I don't," Edward answered. "You are something special, not only to me but to Harry and Marcel too."

"What do you mean special?" Louis asked, too confused to stay irritated.

"I don't know," Edward shrugged. "There's just something about you, that makes us really want to help you and see you get better. But that is very hard when you are closing yourself off, locking yourself in your room and refusing to talk to anyone here."

"I don't want to talk to anyone, thought about that?" Louis crossed his arms.

"Don't talk to us then, but there are others here in the same boat as you. Talk to them, if you'd like. If you spent less time locked in your room and more time with other people, maybe you would even enjoy it here, how about that?" Edward raised a brow at the thin boy who glared stubbornly at his hands.

"I will give you a small homework for our next session tomorrow. I want you to talk to one of the other youths in here, you don't need to talk with staff and you don't need to talk about something deep. I just want you to at least have discussed the weather with one other youth in here before tomorrow afternoon, okay?"

"And why is that necessary?" Louis said in a whiny tone.

"Because you have to stop isolating yourself off from the rest of the world, you are stuck in the same old rut and we need to get you out of there." Edward explained. "Please, just try and talk to someone?"

"Fine," Louis groaned, with no real heat behind it. "Can I go now?"

"What are you going to do?" Edward asked.

"Go to the common room to watch a Christmas movie with other 'youths' in here, as you put it you grandpa," Louis teased, he could not stop himself.

Edward snorted. "Well in that case, be this old grandpa's guest and go to the common room and watch a movie." He would normally take offence to some patient he didn't know calling him grandpa, but then again, there were something special with this particular patient.

***

Louis sat down in the surprisingly soft sofa in the common room, picking up the remote and clicking up Netflix. He had been overjoyed when he had realized that this place had Netflix, what a treasure. He began flipping through the movies under the Christmas category when someone sat down beside him.

"Hi, Louis, right?" The girl asked, sitting unnecessarily close to him regarding that the entire sofa was empty.

"Uhm, yes?" Louis said, in shock at the forwardness of this girl that he hadn't seen before, but judging by her long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants, Louis took her as another patient.

"Oh I'm so sorry," the girl exclaimed, extending a hand. "Name's Delilah, I'm nineteen."

Louis took her hand and shook it tentatively. "Louis, twenty." He said.

Louis was glad that she didn't comment on the incredibly stupid gloves he had on. 

"Nice to meet you, Louis. I don't want to sound like a stalker or something, but I saw when you first came in here and I've wanted to talk to you ever since but you've just never been out here, have you?" Delilah said, very fast too.

"Why did you want to talk to me?" Louis asked in bewilderment.

Delilah shrugged, "you seem like you could need a friend."

Louis nodded, not knowing what to say to that.

"Soo," Delilah said to break the almost awkward silence between them. "What are you watching?"

"I was thinking some Christmas movie," Louis looked back towards the flat television screen.

"Ooh how fun! Can I join you?" Delilah squealed; Louis was amazed over the amount of energy this tiny girl had.

"Sure," Louis shrugged, thinking that he might as well do his 'homework' that Edward had assigned him as soon as possible. "Do you have any suggestions?"

"The Grinch?" Delilah suggested.

Louis shrugged again, pressing the play button on the movie The Grinch. Both of them leaned back against the couch, watching the movie in silence.

***

"Any progress with Louis?" Marcel asked as he drove himself and his three brother's home.

"I did make some progress, but he really didn't want me to tell anyone, not even you guys." Edward said apologetically.

"It's fine," Marcel shook his head. "I understand, some patients are like that. Does he hate his gloves as much as I guessed he would?"

Edward nodded. "He despises them, but I think that he knows that they're good for him because he didn't take them off."

"Hm, That's good." Marcel said, slightly surprised.

"I saw him watching a movie with Delilah earlier," Harry pointed out. "It's nice to finally see him out of his room."

"Yeah, I gave him homework to talk to some other youths at the home if he didn't want to talk to us, then he called me a grandpa for calling them youths." Edward smiled.

Harry laughed loudly at that, Marcel letting out an amused snort.

"He called you a grandpa? Did you tell him off for it?" Harry asked curiously.

Edward shook his head no. "I could not bring myself to do that," he said.

"He has that effect on you too, hm?" Harry teased.

"At least I don't have a crush on him," Edward retorted, making Harry let out an exasperated gasp.

"You did not just accuse me of that!" He said.

"Of what, dear Romeo?" Edward turned in his seat to look back at his younger brother. "Of waiting under your dear Juliette's balcony for her to notice you fancy her?"

"His balcony," Harry corrected him.

"And now you're not even denying it!" Edward exclaimed.

"I-"

"Guys!" Marcel interrupted. "Stop acting like five-year-old boys, Jesus."

"Sorry Marcel," the two older siblings said in unison.

"You're forgiven, now discuss what we are having for dinner instead, do something useful." Marcel said as he drove in on their street.

"Yes Marcel," Both brothers said in unison once more.


	7. Ch. 6: Part 1

"Ha! Check mate," Delilah smiled victoriously as she placed her pawn in line with Louis' king.

"God damn it how did you even do that in three turns, Lilah?" Louis stared at the giggling girl.

Delilah shrugged," I'm just that good, I guess." She said.

Louis shook his head, tugging at his gloves that still adorned his hands.

"How long will you have to keep those on?" Delilah asked carefully, nodding at the gloves.

"I don't know," Louis shrugged. "Marcel haven't told me."

"You call the doctor Marcel?" Delilah furrowed her brows and tilted her head to the side in question.

"Well...Yeah," Louis said unsure. "What do you call him, then?"

"Doctor Styles, Nurse Styles, and Mr. Styles for the therapist." She explained. "They don't want patients to call them by their first names."

"Oh, really?" That was news to Louis, he had not called them by anything but their names since he got here, but they had never corrected him.

Delilah nodded, "That's weird that they let you, though. Maybe you're their pet," she teased. "Y'know, like the teacher's pet but the doctor-nurse-therapist's pet."

"Am not," Louis aimed a playful kick at her from under the table where they sat across from each other.

"Are too," Delilah laughed at Louis' sour expression. "Oh lighten up, flower, I'm just teasing."

Louis raised a sceptical brow. "Flower? Really, Lilah?"

"A beautiful tiny flower you are, Tomlinson." Delilah said, this time with more seriousness, really showing that she meant every word.

"I am not tiny," Louis huffed, trying to stop the blush creeping up his cheeks, it's been long since someone called him beautiful.

"you're like two inches tall," Delilah retorted.

"You're shorter than me!" Louis protested, "you're the one that's tiny, Lilah."

"Well you're tinier than tiny then," Delilah shrugged.

"Oh shut your mouth," Louis laughed, rolling his eyes at her.

At that moment, Edward entered the common room where they sat.

"Louis?" He asked, locking eyes with the blue-eyed boy. "Ready for our session?"

Louis nodded, standing up and waving a glove covered hand at Delilah.

"See you later, flower," Delilah said. "Good luck."

Louis managed a weak smile, but the nerves were back now that he was going back to Edward's—Mr. Styles'? Louis was confused, anyway, the therapist's office.

"We will chat for about an hour as usual, then I'll take you to Marcel so that he can check your vitals and check up on your hands, sounds ok?" Edward asked.

Louis nodded again, entering in front of the man and plopping down in the puffy armchair across from Edward's.

"So, Louis." Edward began. "I see that you've begun to make some friends. That is really good."

Louis nodded yet again, he did not like being in here, because being in here meant talking about his mental health, his past, his wrongdoings.

"And now you're subdued because you don't want to talk to me, is that right?"

Edward and his damn ability to read people like books.

"Why am I allowed to call the three of you by your names, while the other patients are only allowed to call you by your titles?" Louis blurted out suddenly.

"Hm?" Edward looked a little taken aback by the question. "Oh, I don't know actually."

"Am I supposed to call you Mr. Styles now?" Louis asked tentatively.

"Oh no, don't bother with that," Edward dismissed. "Call me Edward, and call Marcel and Harry by their names too. You could call Harry Harold if you want to tease him though, he hates it." Edward winked.

Louis smiled at that, putting that information away for later.

"So," Edward continued. "You've been here a while now, but still we haven't made any noticeable progress regarding your case. We know why you are here, but we don't know why, if you understand what I mean?"

"Uhm, no?" Louis said, confused.

"We know that you have been abusing alcohol as a form of escape for the last couple of years, and that it finally reached a peak where you could not be without it. You came here and have not been consuming a drop of alcohol for a little more than a month now, is that correct?" Edward babbled on, almost too quickly for Louis to keep up.

"Yes?" Louis was very puzzled.

"But what we do not know is how and why you got yourself in that position to start with. We do not know where the abuse started, we do not know how the abuse started, and therefore we cannot stem the abuse, does that make sense?" Edward asked, giving Louis a studying gaze that made him squirm.

"It does," Louis was afraid of where this was going.

"Great, then you do understand that we have to dive into all of the things that you are hiding from me by building up a defence, being angry at the world will not do you nor the world any good. Neither will being mad at yourself, Louis." Edward said it in such a calm demeanour, that Louis found himself agreeing.

"Wonderful, shall we begin then?" Edward asked. "If you want to, I could put my notes down and it's really just you and me right here right now, nothing documented from our conversation, how does that sound?"

"I'd like that, yeah." Louis nodded.

Edward immediately put his notes down, directing all of his attention to Louis. "Want to take it from here?"

Louis nodded, clearing his throat nervously.

"Okay, so uhm, I have these...Dreams, these really bad dreams and—"

His throat was closing up, he began to panic. Louis really didn't want to share, but he did want to get better.

"Bad dreams?" Edward repeated. "Do you want to tell what they are about? There is no pressure here, Louis. Just so you know, you don't need to share if you don't want to. I just want you to talk about something, okay?"

"No!" Louis shouted, correcting himself immediately. "I mean no, I- I need to."

"Okay then, I am all ears, no notebook." Edward smiled warmly, even chucking said notebook across his office to prove his point.

Louis stared after it in astonishment for a moment before turning back to Edward.

"Okay, so..."

And just like that, Louis was reliving his old nightmares that had been tormenting him for years.

...

"I knew all those hours of practicing driving with you would pay off," Eliza joked as she ruffled her son's hair, who sat behind the wheel.

"Mum I nearly failed my test, the lady said that one more wrongdoing and I would not have gotten my license." Louis said, but smiling nonetheless.

"But you did get the license!" Eliza said. "And that is what counts, only a week after your eighteenth birthday, too. I am beyond proud, Lou."

"Thanks mum," Louis preened at the praise.

"Does this mean that you can drive me to school and soccer practice from now on?" Alice questioned from the backseat, looking at Louis through the rear-view mirror. He could barely see her in the darkness of the car.

"Of course, Al." Louis smiled at her. "But only if you promise to be a mean passenger seat DJ."

"Oh, I will." Alice assured him, flipping her hair over her shoulder for extra effect.

Louis only snorted at his little sister's antics.

"How was the Christmas party, then?" Louis asked. "Same boring old men refusing to realize that they are having late middle-aged crisis while they brag about their new sports cars?"

"Something like that," Eliza nodded. "You know how my work associates are. Praise their new cars and get a raise, compliment the cover up of their bald spots and calling it a haircut and get an extra Christmas bonus." She shrugged as if to say 'that kinda stuff.'

Louis laughed. "Oh, I know, mum."

The rest of the family joined in laughing, gossiping about the stuck ups that Eliza worked for.

And then it happened.

Louis had taken his eyes off of the road for barely a second, missing the truck that had ran a red light, and then everything went black.

The next time Louis woke up, he had a firefighter by his car door.

"Sir please do not move in case you have any neck injuries. We are going to cut the door open and then you are being transported to the hospital." The firefighter said.

The sound of sirens was deafening, lights were everywhere, blinding him. He saw police tape roping the area off a few meters in front of him. What?

"What- What happened?" Louis asked, hearing the snip of the firefighter's pliers removing his door.

"You have been in a pretty severe car accident sir, please do not move and we will retrieve the ambulance staff." Another firefighter said that Louis could not see from his position.

Car accident? But they had just been driving home from his mum's office Christmas party, and they were just about to turn in on their street—

Louis turned his head despite the firefighter's instructions, a gasp escaping him at the sight of the inside of the car.

There was dark crimson liquid everywhere, blood. The right side was crumbled up like a simple piece of paper. But what Louis saw, he would never be able to un-see.

His mother was laying limp against what was left of her car seat. Blood was covering her entire face and head, making her almost indistinguishable. There was no rising nor falling of her chest, no movement, no nothing.

Louis had tears in his eyes, slowly turning his head to the backseat despite the ache in his neck and back. He almost did not want to look, already knowing what he would see, but he still had a small silver of hope left that they would be okay.

His father lay across the backseat, limbs pointing out in odd directions. He too was covered head to toe in blood, a big gash in his leg was steadily pulsing fresh blood onto the leather seat. If Louis had not known that his dad had sat there just moments ago, he would not have recognized him.

But what teared Louis's heart completely in a million pieces, Alice. His little sister was spread over the backseat of the car. Her seat belt must have come undone, since she was spread over the floor of the car with her torso against the back of Louis's seat.

"Al?" He croaked out. His shaking fingers were trying to unbuckle his seat belt to get to her. "Alice!"

"Sir, please do not move, your neck could be injured."

An ambulance nurse was at his side, putting a calm hand on Louis' shoulder.

"Please sit still, and we will take you out of the car, okay?" She said.

"My little sister is back there," Louis cried. "Please, help her first. She isn't answering."

"What is your name, darling?" The nurse said as she unbuckled him carefully, Louis noted dimly how his arm seemed to be broken, it was pointing in an odd direction, but he felt nothing.

"Lou-Louis," Louis hiccupped.

"Louis, please just let us take you out of the car and on a stretcher, okay?" The nurse said.

Louis nodded shakily, the faster they got him out, the faster they could help his mother, father, and sister.

Louis could not understand why they were so stubborn in taking him first, he was fine.

The nurses placed a neck brace on Louis, lifting him out and placing him on a stretcher carefully, then they rushed him to the waiting ambulance. He was hooked up to a few different machines, an oxygen mask was put over his face.

Louis felt the ambulance start and drive away from the scene, sirens blaring and blue lights flashing.

"Why didn't you get my sister?" Louis asked frantically, trying to sit up but being pushed down again by one of the nurses. "Or my mum, and dad, they are still in our car!"

"Louis," The nurse's sorrowful expression told Louis enough.

"No-" He said, feeling as panic crept up his spine and his throat closing up. "No, they're not-"

"Your mum, dad, and sister were pronounced dead a few minutes before you woke up. I am so sorry, Louis." The nurse looked crestfallen at having to be the one telling the young boy.

"No, they're not, I-" Louis gasped for air, choking on his rising panic.

Stars danced in his vision, the inside of the ambulance getting blurry.

"Someone give him a boost of oxygen!"

He blacked out.


	8. Ch. 6: Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gets kind of dark, with themes of self harm. May be triggering for some people so please read carefully xx

"I don't know what to say, Louis."

Edward stared at the younger boy. He had told the whole story without pausing, and Edward had let him pour it all out, not daring to interrupt.

"It was pretty bad," Louis said quietly. "I was in the hospital for two weeks. I had broken my arm and four ribs, cracked my left shoulder, sprained my neck, and I had a concussion. The accident was on the news for days."

"Did they ever catch the truck driver that smashed into you?" Edward asked.

Louis shook his head no. "They tried but since no one got the license plate, it was pretty hard to know who did it."

"I do have to admit, I'm pretty speechless." Edward sighed. "Thank you so much for sharing that story with me, Louis. That could not have been an easy thing to do."

"Never is," Louis shrugged.

"Are you up for discussing it, or do you want to call quits for today?" Edward asked. "We still have half an hour."

"Might as well, won't be easier if I wait til' tomorrow, will it?" Louis shrugged again.

"Okay," Edward nodded. "Then let's talk."

He paused for a moment, trying to phrase himself right. "Do you blame yourself for what happened, Louis?"

"Well, obviously." Louis nodded, tugging at his gloves. "I was driving, wasn't I?"

"You were," Edward nodded. "But the accident was not your fault, it is whoever drove that truck's fault, okay?"

"I killed them, and I was just lucky enough to not land myself in prison for it." Louis' voice shook with each word. "I killed my family."

"You didn't," Edward protested. "The truck did. It ran a red light, Louis. There was nothing you could have done."

"If I had just kept my eyes on the road, I would have seen it and stop before it crashed into us." Louis put his head in his hands to shield his tears from Edward.

"I understand that that is how you feel, but I will present another perspective for you, okay? You don't need to talk, just listen."

Louis nodded, still buried in his hand.

"If we take a look at the plain facts, you did nothing wrong. Neither did your mom, dad, or Alice. The truck driver did the wrongdoing, whether they meant to or not, no one knows, but they did wrong in this situation. You, however, did exactly right. You did everything right, and there was nothing that you could have done, regardless if you stared unblinkingly at the road ahead or not." Edward explained.

Louis looked at him between his fingers.

"Do you see what I mean?" Edward asked.

"No one have ever put it like that." Louis said quietly. "Every psychiatrist I've ever gone to was busy with telling me how sorry they were for me." He was quiet for a moment before speaking in a whisper, "I don't need their sorry, I already feel sorry enough as it is."

"Oh, Louis." Edward felt as if his heart had shattered. "I hate that you had to go through all that. I really do want to help you, do you want mine, and my brothers, help?"

Louis hesitated for a second before nodding.

"Okay," Edward nodded. "That is really good. We can only help you if you want the help, as you know."

"Yeah," Louis nodded.

"I will go fetch Marcel then, and you can get your vitals checked. We will visit you in your room later when Harry's back from the hospital, is that okay?" Edward asked.

"Works," Louis nodded.

"Good, we can set up a game plan for these coming weeks, to try and tame those cruel mind monsters you seem to have." Edward smiled.

"I would really want them to disappear to be honest," Louis said. "Two years of harassment is more than enough."

"I could not agree more," Edward chuckled.

Louis liked that sound; it was like a speck of golden light in his dark bubble, that laugh.

"I will go get Marcel, then." Edward stood up, walking to the door and disappearing outside.

Louis drew his knees to his chest as he waited, he was really going to fix his problem.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I will make everything right now, mum."

He didn't care that she was not there, he knew that she could hear him.

...

"How are you feeling, Louis?" Marcel asked as he gently removed the gloves.

"Less shit than usual, surprisingly enough." Louis said, glint in his eye, and Marcel chucked.

"That's good, then." Marcel said. "Have you had any urges to hurt yourself these past few days?"

"A few times," Louis admitted. "But I've never done. I just tugged at my gloves when I wanted to hurt to remind myself that I couldn't."

"That is amazing," Marcel praised. "I wish I could have that amount of self-control."

Louis smiled at the doctor sitting in front of him. "Practice makes perfect, which I am." He joked.

"You sure are," Marcel said under his breath, the oblivious boy not noticing, busy with looking at the anatomy art around Marcel's office.

"I think we can try taking off the gloves, but the moment you feel the urge to do it again and can't resist, you go find me, okay?" Marcel looked at the small boy for confirmation.

Louis nodded. "And if you're busy?" He questioned.

"Then you disturb me," Marcel said simply.

"Even if you are with another patient in here, like Delilah?" Louis asked.

"Even then." Marcel nodded. "You are most important in here."

Louis gave him a confused look, to which he hurried to add, "since your situation is the most unstable at the moment, I mean."

"Oh," Louis nodded.

Marcel mentally slapped himself for not thinking before speaking.

"You're all good to go then, Edward told you that we are dropping by later, yes?" He asked.

"He did, just knock before coming inside in case I'm naked," Louis said, standing up.

He had discovered that he liked to say little inappropriate things like that to make Marcel splutter, he had noticed that this was the easiest triplet to make flustered. Harry had just sprinted the other way as soon as he opened his mouth and started saying something remotely unfitting and Edward had just retorted with something equally as inappropriate.

He smiled and walked out of the doctor's office to the sound of Marcel's surprised spluttering.

...

"Knock, knock!" Harry said as he knocked on door 365.

"Come in!" Came Louis' voice from inside.

The three brothers stepped inside, the sight of Louis sitting cross legged on his bed, reading a book, greeting them. He must have just showered, his hair was darker at the ends, looking damp yet soft. He had the usual home clothes on, long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants, and a pair of fuzzy socks that he must have been brought by that best friend of his.

A collective thought went through their three minds; He looked like a beautiful angel.

"Hi."

Louis' very soft voice interrupted their train of thoughts.

"Hello," Harry was the one to speak. "How are you?"

Louis shrugged. "Okay, could have been worse after a day like this."

The triplets nodded. Edward had not told them the entire story, only that Louis and his family had been in an accident, that he had been the only survivor and that Louis now battled with PTSD and survivor's guilt.

"That is perfectly normal, love." The nickname slipped out of Harry's mouth before he had time to stop it, but Louis did not seem to mind.

"We have set up a plan for you, if you'd like to hear it." Marcel said, sitting down in a chair beside Louis' bed, Harry sat down by the foot of the bed, and Edward leaned against the wall beside it.

"Go for it," Louis said, closing the book after marking the spot he was at and put it on his nightstand.

"So," Marcel took a brown leather journal out of his robe pocket, placing it on the bed. "We suggest that you keep a diary. It doesn't have to be novel lengths for each day, just small little notes for each day. We think that it may be good for you to let some of all the thoughts and feelings crowding your mind out on paper. Of course no one is going to read it, it's just for you."

"You bought this for me?" Louis looked between the three brothers. "That is so nice."

"Will you try?" Harry asked, stroking Louis' sock clad foot calmingly.

Louis nodded. "Can't promise anything, but I can try to."

"Perfect," Edward smiled. "We really do appreciate you trying to get better, and letting us in."

Louis only nodded, giving the man a weak smile.

"We were also thinking that you should meet with me three times a week from now on, then with Marcel once a week for a check-up, and once or twice a week for Harry." Edward explained.

"I don't want to sound rude at all, but... What am I supposed to do exactly, with Harry?" Louis questioned, shooting the nurse an apologetic look.

"Whatever you want." Harry said simply. "We could watch movies, drink tea, gossip, read, draw... The sky is the limit." He smiled.

"Oh, okay." Louis nodded. "That does sound pretty good, I like you, you're kind." He directed the last part to Harry, who blushed.

"I think it's important to treat people with kindness, and they will treat you likewise," Harry said.

"That was the sappiest thing I've heard for a while, but I like it." Louis giggled. "Should be your tagline, you should embroider it on a pillow."

Harry shrugged, smiling. "Why not?"

"Anyway, we will leave for the day now, but we just wanted to come by and give you the journal." Marcel said.

"A nurse will come in tomorrow and set up a schedule board for you," Edward said. "So that you remember what you have scheduled for each day and for you to write if someone's coming by on visiting hours and so on."

Louis nodded, sad that the triplets were leaving so soon. He had starting to take a liking to them.

"See you tomorrow, then?" He asked.

"We definitely will, sweet dreams." Harry smiled, patting the boy's leg before standing up and exiting the room with his brothers.

...

"What the hell are we going to do?" Marcel groaned, plopping down on the sofa the moment they entered their house.

"Shut off our personal feelings at work, that's the only thing we can do." Edward said, throwing himself down beside his brother.

"But I don't wanna do that," Harry pouted, planting himself on the floor with his back to the coffee table. "I really want to get to know Louis, I think I like him."

"We know you do," Marcel and Edward said in unison.

"Hey," Harry said, offended. "Rude."

"Not rude," Marcel pointed out.

"Only truth," Edward finished, laughing when Harry shoved his legs.

"No but for real, guys. What should we do? We know that we are not allowed to- You know." Marcel groaned.

"Technically, but are we really breaking the rules if no one finds out?" Harry said. "I mean... If we're really careful—"

"No," Edward protested. "You know why those rules were put there in the first place, Haz."

"But that happened once, there is a chance that it won't happen to us." Harry said sadly.

"But there is also a risk that it will happen to us, just like it did to him." Edward said. "Especially since we don't really know where we have Lou, he is not stable. If Jason's was stable and that still happened, think what could happen to us. The rules are there for a reason."

"Yeah, yeah." Harry sighed. "What do you suggest we do, then?"

"We see where it leads us, don't act on it and don't let him know that we like like him, it won't do him good." Edward decided.

"I'm with Ed on this one," Marcel sighed. "That sounds like the best thing to do right now, and hope that the feelings ebb away. If they don't, then we'll handle that when it comes."

"Fine," Harry grumbled. "I will do it, but I do not agree with it."

He stood up and marched away towards the kitchen, muttering something along the lines of "Stupid feelings, stupid brothers won't let me have my way."

...

Louis watched the door close behind the three brothers. He did not know how to explain it, but talking to them, even being in the same room as them, just gave him this... fluttering feeling in the pit of his stomach. He felt a weird sort of pull towards them, something that was very hard to explain. But they made him feel better.

On the other hand though, as soon as they left, it was as if the light of his world left with them. Leaving space for those clawed, dark shadows that enthralled his mind and body and making him unable to think, to feel, anything else but darkness. Pure, indestructible darkness.

He had decided to go for it. The triplets had left and the night time personnel were nowhere to be seen, he noticed upon poking his head out of his room and scanning the corridor. He closed the door carefully and soundlessly, his sock clad feet enabling him to quietly sneak one door down, to the door with the name "medical supply closet" written on it. He scanned the door, heart racing. Damn it, he needed a code, and a tag by the looks of it.

This was incredibly risky, Louis knew it. But at some point, you would be prepared to do anything and everything to put your darkness at bay, only if you had let it overcome you as much as he had, could you understand how it felt; the pure desperation to be escape from the gnashing teeth and sharp claws of those monsters that slithered around withing him.

He tired to not look suspicious as he walked down the hall towards the common area, turning down the corridor leading to the receptions desk and small office there. A petite nurse sat at the desk, typing something out on the computer. She looked up when he approached.

"Oh, hello Louis." She said kindly. "What can I help you with?"

"Hi, Uhm." Louis stalled for just a moment, but he had made up his mind. "The Tv in the common area isn't working suddenly, I don't know what's wrong, I'm not that technical..." He trailed off.

"Oh that's too bad," the kind nurse frowned, standing up. "Here, I can see if I'd be any help."

She walked out from behind the receptions desk and began walking down the corridor towards the common area. Louis steeled himself before leaning over the desk and snatching up the keys hanging on a hook on the inside of the reception desk, wanting to shout with joy as he saw that it contained a tag.

He stuffed the keys into his pocket and sprinted down the hall to catch up with the nurse.

"The Tv seems to work just fine, Louis." She said, confused, as he reached her.

"Oh, does it?" He crossed his fingers inside of his pocket, let her not notice anything, he prayed.

"Maybe you forgot to put on the amplifier for the speakers?" She asked.

"Oh right, I'm such a klutz, so sorry to disturb you." He said sheepishly.

"No worries, happens to all of us." She smiled kindly, heading back towards her desk.

Louis waited until she had turned the corner before sprinting down the hallway towards his room and skidded to a stop beside the supply closet. Now for the difficult part.

They said they had started their center two years ago, so he tried typing in 2-0-1-8 on the keypad, but got denied. Maybe they changed it every year? He tried 2-0-2-0, a no go.

"Come on," Louis whispered desperately at it, as if him asking it to would make the door spring open. He did not know enough about the triplets to guess this sort of thing.

He groaned in frustration, his hands trembling in time with his rapidly beating heart.

Come on, think!

Maybe the year they were all born? But then again, Louis thought, he did not actually know how old the triplets were. They could not be that much older than him, could they? He began punching in the numbers of the years before his own birth year, until—Jackpot!

1-9-9-4

The light flicked from red to green, and the door opened. Louis felt as if he could cry as the strong scent of hand sanitizer and other disinfectants struck his nose. Afraid to get caught, he slipped inside, grabbed a five hundred millilitre bottle of hand sanitizer and dashed out again, almost throwing himself back into his own room. He stuffed the bottle under his pillow before dashing out again, running as quietly as he could to the common area and placing the keys by the Tv, hoping to everything that was holy that the nurse would just think that she had dropped them there when fixing the Tv for him.

Well back in the safety of his room, he sat down on his bedside with the bottle in hi hand. It was one of those bottles where the sanitizer gels, damn it. He sighed, he could feel his blood rushing in his ears, the pounding of his heart, the trembling of every inch of his frail body.

He steeled himself.

Desperate times calls for desperate measures.

He pumped a few pumps into his palm, staring at the clear gel for a few seconds before stuffing it in his mouth. The agony was instantaneous. Pain as he had never felt, burning as if his mouth and tongue and insides would catch fire, dizziness, when did the room turn on its head? He felt bile rise in his throat and almost fell off the bed in his hurry to make it to the bathroom. He threw himself over the toilet bowl and retched, he closed his eyes to try and escape it all. Sweat covered his face, dampening his shirt and making the fingers clutching the porcelain bowl slip. He saw blinding spots in front of him as he slowly slipped into nothingness.

Alone.


	9. Ch. 7

"Where is he?"

"Sir, I need you to calm—" 

"I will not calm down! Where. Is. He?"

Louis opened his eyes, squinting at the bright fluorescent lights. He lifted his hand to try and shield from the bright room, when he realised, he had a needle at the top of his hand, a tube attached to it. Then he became aware of the soft beeping from various machines in time with his heartbeat.

Where was he?

The shouting continued from outside the closed door. Louis knew that voice, at least. Would recognise that anywhere. 

The triplets where here, or at the very least, Edward was. 

"He's asleep right now I wouldn't recommend going in there."

"And I don't give a fuck, do I?"

The door burst open, and in stormed Harry, with Marcel in tow and a seemingly very upset Edward. Harry ran to Louis' side as soon as he caught sight of him. His hair was sleep-ruffled and it looked like he had thrown on the first articles of clothing he saw before rushing out the door. Marcel's usually gelled back hair was hanging down across his face and his glasses where askew. Edward had a button up thrown on, only the middle two buttons even done up properly, and sweatpants.

"Oh Louis thank god you're okay," Harry sounded as he was about to cry.

"We got so worried," Marcel said, petting back his hair from his face softly with shaking hands. 

"What in the world were you thinking, love?" Edward asked, voice softer than Louis had ever heard it.

Louis stared wide eyed around at the tree men, before he broke down into tears.

"I am so sorry," he got out between sobs. "I'm such a fuck up and I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"Love there is no need to say sorry," Marcel said carefully. "We are just so glad that you are okay."

Harry and Edward nodded frantically. 

"What—What happened?" Louis asked quietly.

"You...Drank hand sanitizer." Harry said slowly, the word hurting him immensely one after the other as they made their way out of his mouth. "Somehow you got hold of a bottle, the night nurse heard your retching and rushed to your aid. When she saw you passed out on the floor, she called an ambulance and then us, you were rushed straight here and had your stomach pumped. We came as quickly as we could." 

Louis stared down into his lap, so overcome with shame he did not know what to do or how to react. 

"We are just glad you're okay." Marcel repeated. "Truly, we are not mad at you, not at all." 

"Or disappointed." Edward added on. "We are so happy that you made it through, you are strong, Louis."

Louis made a small noise, close to a scoff, but his throat was too sore to get much of anything out. 

"How are you feeling now?" Marcel asked after a few moments of silence.

"Like a bag of smelly crap, to be honest." Louis shrugged. 

Edward surveyed him for a moment, before sitting down at the bottom of his bed, putting a reassuring hand on his leg over the blankets. 

"Louis I know you'll hate that I'm asking you this now, but I feel like I have to and I beg you to please be honest with me, okay?" 

Louis looked up from his lap to meet the eldest triplet's eyes, and nodded.

"Were you... Trying to take your own life?

Louis swallowed, pondering the question for a moment.

"No," he said finally. "I didn't mean to—I mean I didn't think that all the way through I just needed..." 

"Your fix?" Marcel supplied; Louis nodded.

Edward nodded in understanding, the three brothers sharing a look between them. Louis had a strong feeling that they were wordlessly discussing him and what to do with him now, but he was too exhausted to really care. 

"How long am I staying here?" He asked instead.

"A few days," Edward said. "They want to make sure you're stable, but then you can come back to us." 

"Back to the rehab," Harry spoke quickly, and Louis though he could se Harry sending a glare the eldest triplet's way.

But he was too tired. He saw the sun rising outside of his window and yawned. 

"We will let you rest now, but we can be back tomorrow, if you want?" Marcel asked.

Louis only nodded, burying himself deeper under his blankets and closing his eyes, barely staying awake to hear the door shut. 

...

The next three days went in a dizzy blur for Louis, like the world was out of focus and he was just whooshing by. Niall had come bursting in through the door later that day, much like the triplets had done. He had doted on him, fluffed his pillow and read him tinder messages that he had gotten to make Louis laugh. Then he had slapped him across the head for being stupid, but that was just Niall. And Louis loved him for it. 

The triplets had come again the next morning, as they had promised. Harry had brought a soft, brown teddy bear and given it to Louis, and after some convincing, also made him keep it. Louis did not want to admit it, but the gesture had almost made him cry, no one had ever given him a plushie to cuddle when he was sad. They had sat with him and sipped on a Styrofoam mug each of tea while they shared stories from their childhood; how they had gone to high school on many occasions dressed as each other and taken the other's classes, without anyone noticing. 

"Marcel can thank me for acing his music class," Harry had said, leaning back in his chair. "Passed it with flying colours."

"Oh please," Marcel snorted. "Without me you would not had made it out alive with such a good grade in maths and English, sit down." 

Louis laughed with them; he had to admit that they were growing on him for each day passing. 

...

"Lou you're back!" 

Louis had barely entered the doors when someone crashed right into him, obstructing his vision so that all he saw was sleek, black hair. 

"Delilah let the poor boy breathe," Liam laughed from behind the reception desk.

"Sorry," Delilah said sheepishly, pulling away from Louis and beaming at him. "It's been right boring without you around, you know that?"

"I doubt that," Louis said with a small smile. "I barely leave my room. Most people don't even know I'm here."

"But I do, flower." Delilah deadpanned. "And I missed your sorry arse, just take the compliment and let's go watch a movie." 

Louis rolled his eyes in fond as he let Delilah drag him down the hall. 

They sat down on the familiar couch, throwing some of the fleece blankets over themselves before starting the third season of Friends, they had a mission to watch every season together, or as many as they could while they were both there. 

A quarter into the episode, Delilah began to squirm slightly next to him, throwing the blanket from her shoulders so that it pooled at her waist.

"Very warm, sweaty." She replied at his inquiring stare. 

"Take off your hoodie then," Louis supplied, but Delilah only shook her head; somewhat panicked. 

They continued watching, until Delilah seemed to not be able to take it anymore, she pulled up the sleeves of the hoodie as far up her arms as it would go, stopping right above her elbows. Louis looked over at her out of pure reflex, and stiffened. 

"Lilah..." He said quietly.

Delilah looked over at him, and then where his gaze was fixed, at the fresh puncture marks in her arm, just below her elbow. 

"I—" She hastily yanked down her sleeves, wrapping her arms around herself. 

"Hey, hey," Louis scooted closer to her, wrapping and arm around her shoulders. "It's okay. I understand." 

"You do?" Her voice was so quiet, a full turn from her usual flamboyant personality. Her black hair hung like a curtain in front of her face, shielding her big doe eyes from view.

"I do, trust me." Louis nodded. "I just came back from the hospital for drinking hand sanitizer, I understand."

Delilah looked up at him then. "You drank—Louis you idiot!"

"I know," Louis nodded. "But trust me, I understand. Hey, want to go take a smoke? Talk it out?"

Delilah nodded, pulling the arms of the hoodie as far over her hands as she could, as they walked together to the front desk.

"Hey Liam, can we have some cigarettes?" Louis asked the brown-haired nurse typing away at his computer. 

"It's a bad habit," Liam sighed as he handed him the red pack of cigs and a lighter.

"Better than my current one," Louis said jokingly, thanking him before taking Delilah's hand and leading her out to the little fenced in backyard where they sat down at a bench and leaned against the side of the house. 

"So," Louis said when both of them had lit a cigarette each, blowing out the smoke and watching it dissolve into the night sky. "Who got you the syringes?" 

"I'm not a snitch, am I?" Delilah huffed a laugh, tapping her cigarette against the ashtray between them.

Louis gave her a 'do you really think I'd snitch on you' look.

"Fine, fine." Delilah sighed. "I got it from Molly, you know that older girl that's been here for like, ages?"

Louis thought for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, I do remember her. And how the fuck did she come over morphine syringes?" 

"How am I supposed to know?" Delilah shrugged her shoulders. "I just smile and accept, you know?"

Louis nodded, taking another drag before speaking again. "I am about to sound like a goddamned hypocrite, but you do know that stuff is really bad for you, right? Even though it makes you feel good right there and then."

"Well, duh." Delilah sighed. "Wouldn't be in here otherwise, would I?" 

Louis only looked at her. 

"I know— It's just- I am so fucking tiered of feeling nothing all the time, you know? I feel empty, and like I'm just watching from within a shell. Like..." 

"There is nothing there?" Louis supplied. 

"Exactly," Delilah let out a huff of humourless laughter. "And the M just helps me feel at least a little bit, for a little while. To not feel like a failed human being."

"For sucking at the one thing you're supposed to be able to do," Louis nodded. "I hear you."

They sat quiet for a while, listening to the distant sound of crickets and the occasional owl.

"Do you feel like it's helping, though?" Louis asked. "Being in here, I mean."

Delilah shrugged. "I mean, kind of. I came here shortly before you did, so I haven't been here that long, but besides sneaking in and abusing the drug I'm in here for in the first place, I'd say so. At least I feel really bad thinking about how disappointed the Styles' would be at me if they found out."

"Harry do have some pretty ruthless puppy eyes," Louis nodded.

Delilah laughed. 

"But you do know you don't have to keep that happy-go-lucky act up with me, though. I am just as fucked up as you are, and instead of hiding it we can be fucked up together, it might even help us a little bit, if we're lucky." Louis placed a hand over her sweater covered one. 

Delilah removed her hand from under his, but only to pull her sweater up to her wrist, taking his hand in hers. She looked up at him, her hazel eyes glimmering in the light from the surrounding lights.

"I know, thank you." 

...

"Louis," Edward had a sharper, warning tone to his voice as he stared down the younger boy. "We need to discuss this. I know it's difficult and I am sorry but we need to."

Louis only glared at him from his own seat across from the green-eyed man. "What if I don't want to?" 

"How about I won't let you leave until you tell me how you got a hold of hand sanitizer?" 

"That's not very therapist-y of you." 

"And what if I don't care?" 

Louis glared at him for a few more moments before sighing. "Fine you annoying arse," he mumbled under his breath as he shifted in his seat.

Edward peered up at him over the top of his glasses. "What did you call me?"

"An arse," Louis shrugged. 

Edward let out a snort.

"What?"

"No, no. Nothing," Edward waved his hand in dismissal. 

"I won't tell you if you won't tell me," Louis protested. 

Edward sighed, a smile tugging at the very corners of his lips as he surveyed the small, yet very stubborn, boy. A month and a half here had made wonders for his physique. He was no longer skin and bones, and some colour had found its way back to his cheeks. 

"I think you're cute, that's all." Edward tried to say as casually as possible.

Louis gaped at him for a moment before turning even redder. 

Edward could not help but smirk. "And now you, love."

Louis cleared his throat, he was going to make Edward so disappointed. 

"I may have—" 

"May have?" Edward raised a brow.

"Fine, I did steal the keys from the front desk and guessed the code to the lock of the supply closet, and it was in there. So I took it." Louis rambled very fast. 

Edward only nodded.

Louis cocked his head. "Aren't you mad at me? Or disappointed?" 

Edward shook his head. "I understand that you're in a very trying situation, and I know that you are trying your very best. So no, I'm not mad." 

"Oh." 

"Yeah," Edward nodded. "Thank you for sharing that with me, shall we continue on as usual?" 

Louis nodded, trying to ignore the golden warm feeling spreading from his heart all the way out to the tips of his fingers.

"Yeah, let's do that."


	10. Ch. 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been updating this every day this week as a celebration for my birthday, but since the week is now over this will be the last one. But don’t worry, I will still update at least once a week ! Thank you for reading, and enjoy xx

When Louis finally closed the door to his room, he had to put his hand over his mouth to stop himself from squealing out loud.

Edward has called him cute.

Him, cute!

And love, Louis reminded himself, wanting to jump up and down with excitement. No one had called him cute before, well except his mother but that doesn't count.

He leaned against the door and smiled to himself. Maybe, just maybe, this place wasn't so bad after all.

He plopped down onto his bed, snatching up the brown teddy bear that Harry had given him at the hospital and cuddled it close to his chest. It still had a very faint smell of Harry's aftershave, and Louis found himself being sad over the scent disappearing. There was just something so comforting with that particular smell.

With a sigh he reached for the brown journal that Marcel and the other triplets had given him a week ago. He had still not written anything in it, the prospect of putting thoughts to paper where anyone could read at any given moment, made him very uneasy. Maybe it was a trick, a ruse to get him to spill his deepest and darkest secrets? How could he trust that Edward had not planted it there to read at his leisure later?

But Edward wouldn't do that, would he?

Louis steeled himself, picking up the ballpoint pen that Marcel had left together with the journal and jotted down the date at the top left corner of the first page.

November 24th 2020.

He stalled. What was he supposed to write? How much he loathed to feel, but at the same time yearned for it, because the impenetrable nothingness he had inside was worse than any human feeling he could have? Or how much he wished to be lying beneath the earth with the rest of his family sometimes, how when it all became too much, he wished that he had joined them?

No, he decided. Too dark, too gloomy and depressing. Well— that he was. He pondered for a moment, tapping the pen against his chin as he thought. Let's make this introduction into my mind something more enjoyable than death and despair, he thought. And he began to write.

November 24th 2020.

About a month and a half here at the SRYA, and the place seems less and less like a prison to me each day. Maybe even enjoyable, although that is a bit of a stretch, for now. But I have gotten accustomed to the triplets, The Styles'. Everyone else here only calls them by titles, but I don't, or rather they don't want me to. Hm... Anyway. They are actually really nice, more so than I first thought upon entering this building and somehow signing the paper to my own doom, or so it felt, I don't know if I still agree with that though. 

But it's just... Edward has the most captivating eyes, and when he smiles I feel like specs of light come to life inside of me. Like the sound of it brings what died inside of me two years ago, back to life. I don't really know what it is, maybe he's just a very good therapist, or maybe... There is something more?

But also. Marcel makes me feel so safe when he's around. He has the softest hands I have ever felt, and that gelled back hair paired with the glasses and the white robe... Very much a look. He makes me feel like I could tell him anything, and when he insists that I wear those godawful gloves on my hands I can't say no, because I don't want to disappoint him.

But then also also. Harry. He is the funniest, most genuine person I've met. And frankly, when I first crashed into him, I expected to be yelled at. But I don't think that man has the capability to be mad at anyone, he is just too kind. Not a mean bone inside his entire six-foot-something body. And on top of that, he smells fucking amazing, so that's nice.

Louis dropped the pen back onto the bed and stared at the page now filled with text. He had let his mind and hand wander, and to his horror it seemed like, upon reading and re-reading the page, he had ended up with a sort of love declaration for the Styles triplets.

And on top of that, all three of them.

Oh no. This was not good.

...

Louis sat with the teddy bear, upon careful consideration he had decided to name it Pooh, in his lap and stared at the door. Going off of the schedule board that had been set up on the wall opposite of his bed, Harry would be here any minute so that they could hang out and do... Something. Louis was nervous to say the least. He felt as if the journal that lay on his nightstand was staring holes in his neck, its content ready to spill out and expose him at any given moment. 

Louis sighed, thinking that maybe he should just go find Delilah instead, when someone called from the other side of the door.

"Knock, knock!" 

"Come in!" Louis called back.

"No, you're supposed to say 'who's there?'" Came Harry's voice from the other side.

Louis rolled his eyes, but still called back: "Who's there?"

"Theodore," Louis could hear the pride in Harrys voice, and felt a terrible punchline coming.

Theodore who?"

Harry opened the door and peeked inside. "Theodore wasn't open, so I knocked."

Louis chucked a pillow at him. Harry was not fast enough to dodge it and it hit him square in the face. 

"Hey," Harry drawled out with a pout on his lips. "Rude. That was a good joke."

"It was not," Louis laughed, yelping when that same pillow came flying just over his head. "Ha! Missed me."

"Shut up," Harry laughed. "Do you want to hang out or not?" 

Louis grabbed Pooh and nodded the bears head, sticking his tongue out at Harry when the older man groaned. 

...

"Where did you learn to braid hair?" Harry asked as Louis began the second French braid on his dark, curly locks. 

He could feel Louis' fingers freeze for a moment before continuing. "My sister," he said. "She made me braid her hair every day before her soccer practice."

"Is she your younger sister?" Harry asked carefully.

"She was." 

"I understand," Harry sat quiet for a while. "Do you want to talk about it? Or about her?" 

Louis took a deep breath. He was still haunted by the nightmares, the blood. But during his stay he had begun to open up more, and he knew that Harry would not be like other hospital personnel that gave him that awful pitying look. He would understand.

"Alice." Louis said. "This Christmas will be two years since her death."

Harry reached up briefly, placing his hand atop Louis' on his head to show that he understood and that Louis could talk as much or as little as he wanted, before returning it to his lap.

"It's so sad because she had so much potential. She was excelling in her soccer team. They were even discussing moving her up a step to play with older girls in a different division. She did great in school, too. It's just sad that she did not even have a chance to start high school." Louis found that once he had begun talking it was hard to stop.

"And Christmas has never been the same since, for obvious reasons. But it's been extra hard, because I never met someone who adored Christmas as much as Alice did. And it feels like the spirit of Christmas was put out when her life... Ended." He finished quietly as he took a hair tie to the end of the final braid, tapping Harry's shoulder so that he knew he was done. 

Harry turned around where they were sitting on the floor together and surveyed Louis. The younger boy refused to meet his eyes. Harry put a finger cautiously under Louis' chin, lifting his face up so that their eyes met. Harry could see the storm of emotions raging inside of Louis; could almost see them reflected in those cerulean eyes.

"But..." Louis' voice was barely a whisper as he spoke. "It helps a lot—this, I mean."

"Being here?" Harry asked, just as quietly, as though raising his voice would break the delicate spell that both of them seemed to be under. Louis nodded softly. 

"Well," Harry said. Their faces were incredibly close; he could see his own reflection in the glimmer of unshed tears in Louis' eyes. "I'm glad."

Close. They were so, so, close. 

"Me too," Louis said, barely audible as their lips met.

It was soft and swift, barely a press of their lips against one another, before Harry backed away.

"We...Can't" Harry said quietly.

"Wha- Why not?" Louis felt as is his heart had dropped to his feet.

"We just—I can't. I'm not allowed." Harry struggled to get any words out.

"What do you mean not allowed?" Louis felt like he just wanted to sink below the surface and never come up.

"It's one of our most strict rules," Harry said. "No overly friendly or romantic relationships between employee and patient allowed."

Louis stared down at his hands, fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

"It's there for a reason." Harry sighed. "I—We had a colleague that fell in love with one of our patients... It didn't end well."

Louis looked up from between his lashes at Harry. "What happened?"

Harry sighed. "His name was Jason. He was the only other therapist we've had here, besides Ed. He had the primary care of a girl, we can call her A. Well, she got in here at the very start of this rehab home, and she seemed to be doing well too. The two of them grew steadily closer each day, and we did not really think much of it, we didn't notice how close they actually were at first."

"What happened?" Louis asked. 

"She got better, after a few months Marcel gave her the green to be signed out. And she was. She moved in with Jason shortly after that, and from there no one really knows how or really what happened. But..." Harry took a shaky breath before continuing. "Barely a month of them living together, she relapsed into drugs, took an overdose and..." Harry didn't need to say more, Louis understood. 

"And what happened to Jason?" He asked carefully. "When she had died?" 

"He hung himself upon coming home and finding her lifeless on the kitchen floor." Harry said quietly. "Couldn't bare living without her, so he joined her."

Louis put a hand to his mouth in chock. Whatever he had been expecting, it was not this. 

"I am so sorry," He whispered. 

Harry nodded and gave a small 'thanks.' 

"But that's the reason why I can't—Why we can't, you know." He gestured between them. "Please don't take it personal, I would have kissed you eons ago if only I had been allowed to."

Lois gave a small laugh. "But when I'm out of here, what about then?"

"Then," Harry gave a small smirk. "There is no rule in this world that can stop me. When you're not a patient, the management can't do shit. I really like you, Lou."

"I—" Louis thought back briefly to his journal entry where not only Harry's name stood, but also Edward and Marcel's. "I really like you too, Harry.

...

"You what?" Edward shouted as soon as Harry told them. Marcel only stared at his younger brother in disbelief. 

"I know, I know." Harry groaned, laying face down on their plush sofa with his legs over Marcel's thighs. "I shouldn't have kissed him, it's against the rules, I could lose my job, etcetera, etcetera." 

"Exactly that," Edward scoffed. "What were you thinking, Harry?" 

"I just—I couldn't resist, okay?" Harry groaned. "And he feels the same way too. He likes me."

Something stirred in the pit of Edward's stomach, was it jealousy?

"How do you know?" Marcel asked quickly, sitting up a little straighter. 

"He told me so," Harry twisted around so that he lay on his back instead. "I said I really liked him, and he said he really liked me too." 

"But is he open to... You know?" Marcel asked tentatively.

"I don't know." Harry hummed. "It didn't feel like the right place to ask." 

Edward snorted. "I don't think it ever is, really, brother. It's never the right place to walk up to someone and say 'hey do you want to enter a polyamorous relationship with me and my two twin brothers? It's like buying one and getting two for free!'"

"Edward!" Marcel squeaked out in chock. 

"What? It's kind of true."

Harry laughed himself into a coughing fit, having to sit up straight not to choke. 

"We can take that conversation in due time." He said once he had calmed down. "Let's not scare him away the first thing that we do. Let him get used to the idea first."

"I think that's smart," Marcel nodded. "I just hope we can get him good enough so that he's out soon. Unfortunately, the hand sanitizer set him back pretty far regarding the criteria of getting signed out."

"Yeah," Edward nodded. "But I'm having some progress with tangling up his traumatic past, and he has not been hurting himself so far, has he?"

Marcel shook his head. 

"Good," Edward said. "Then I think we're as far along with him as we can be, for now."


	11. Ch. 9

"I don't know, Lou." 

Louis sat on top of his bed with Niall in the chair next to it, feet across the bottom part of the bed. 

"But why not, Ni?" Louis sighed. "You've met him, right? He's tall, toned, and actually the sweetest ever."

"It's not that, dummy." Niall said. "I'm not blind, I can see why you like Harry, I'm just not too sure it's a good idea."

"Yeah, I know." Louis sighed. "And speaking of..." He turned and took his journal from the nightstand, placing it between them. "It's not only Harry." 

Niall looked quizzically at him for a moment before he understood, mouth forming an 'o' shape. "Don't tell me... You're crushing on all of three of them?" He shrieked. 

Louis smacked his leg with the journal. "Shh, not so loud!" He whisper-yelled, Niall placed his hand over his mouth but stared inquiringly at his best friend. 

"I might like all three of them, yes." A smile found its way to Louis' lips. "But I know that's even worse, because say that I start dating Harry once I'm out of here, how could I stand going to dinner at his place and sitting across from the other two too?" 

"Wait—They all live together?" 

Louis nodded.

"Well yeah that makes things a tad bit weird, don't it?" Niall said. "Well— Try to not get ahead of yourself, one day at a time, yeah?" 

"I guess."

"For now, just focus on getting healthier." Niall smiled, then added. "And I will personally come here and smack you around the head if I find out you've done another thing like the one that landed you in the hospital, okay?"

"Yes mum," Louis gave him a small smile.

"Lou." 

"Yeah, yeah, I know, Niall." Louis took the blonde's hand in his. "I promise I'll try to get better, and to not do something like that again. I don't know what I was thinking, honestly."

Niall surveyed him for a moment, before nodding.

"Well, I'll need to get going if I want to avoid the afternoon rush hour." He stood up and walked towards the door, turning around. "And by the way, is there a possibility that..." 

"That what?" Louis asked. "Niall, you're blushing!"

"I'm not," Niall put a hand to his face. "Shut up. I was just wondering if you knew whether or not the guy at the reception, you know—swings the same way as we do? And... If he's single by any chance?" 

"Liam?" Louis scrunched his brows in thought. "I don't know actually, but I can look into it. Someone's got a crush?" He teased.

"Fuck off," Niall laughed. "But yes, please. He's always so nice to me when I come here, always asking how my day's going and if I'm alright. It's just... Something about him." And then he opened the door to leave.

"You filthy little hypocrite!" Louis shouted after him, getting an 'I love you too, Lou' back.

...

The following days rolled on smoothly without any major hiccups. Louis had not needed to have the gloves on for a few weeks now, his strongest motivation being to imagine Marcel's disappointment when he found out. He could not do that to the doctor who was working so hard on helping him. 

His sessions with Edward, on the other hand, were like the world's most turbulent roller coaster. As soon as they touched a new troublesome part of Louis' past, he sort of clammed up. He tried not to, he really did, but it was as if his body went on autopilot when trying, and failing, to talk about it. 

Edward sighed, putting his notebook down on his lap. Louis hated to make him disappointed, hated it. 

"Let's just talk about something else then, shall we?" Edward asked, Louis nodded. 

"Like what?" He asked carefully.

"Anything you like." 

"Well," Louis shifted in his seat, settling with his legs crisscrossed. "How's Liam like?"

Edward's neck snapped up from where he'd been reading the notes over, so fast he cricked it. Rubbing his neck to get rid of the pain he looked at the blue-eyed boy, "Why do you ask?" 

Louis gave him a confused look, but only said "is he into boys?"

Edward almost choked. "And why do you ask that?" 

"Because my friend Niall finds him attractive," Louis said slowly, surveying the man across from him. "Why are you acting weird?" 

Oh, thank god. Edward thought.

"Nothing special."

They sat quiet for a moment, then Louis spoke. 

"Well... Is he?"  
"What?" Edward looked up at him.

Louis rolled his eyes. "Gay. Is Liam gay? Or bi. Or pan, doesn't really matter as long as boys are included."

Edward thought for a moment. "I'm not too sure, I know that he's had boyfriends in the past though, if that helps. But he's single for now as far as I'm aware."

"Okay, good." Louis nodded. 

A beat went by. 

"Are you gay?" 

Edward almost spit out his coffee all over his white dress shirt at this. 

"Excuse me?" 

"Homosexual," Louis shrugged. "Friend of Dorothy's, whatever you'd like to call it."

"Isn't that a bit personal, Louis?" Edward raised a brow, but could not stop the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. The nerve. 

Louis shrugged. "You said we could discuss anything I liked."

Well, he wasn't wrong.

"Fine." Edward sighed. "I am gay, but maybe not in the most... Common of ways." 

"Now you'll have to explain yourself," Louis said. "What do you mean not most common of ways?" 

There is no right time, or place, to tell him. Edward reminded himself. But then again, ease him into it. 

"Well, Louis." Edward cleared his throat. "I want you to listen to everything I've got to say before speaking, okay?" 

Louis looked apprehensive, but nodded. 

"Me and my brothers... We often engage in what you could call a... Polyamorous relationships. Do you know what that is?" 

Louis shook his head. 

"It's when several people are involved in an intimate relationship with each other, with the consent of everyone involved, of course. 

"So you and your brothers—" 

"We don't engage in intercourse with each other," Edward explained. "Think of it more as... Sharing one partner between the three of us, I guess you could say."

"So like, having three boyriends, for example?" Louis asked.

"Exactly." Edward smiled. 

"Is it hard?" Louis tilted his head in question. "I mean, I can imagine people getting a little uncomfortable by news like that."

"It's not easy, no." Edward said. "Since it's not that common of a practice, it scares quite a few people away when they find out."

"I could imagine." Louis nodded.

"Are you?" Edward asked, not able to stop himself.

"Am I what?" 

"Scared." 

Louis looked him over for a moment, his first journal page swimming in his mind's eye.

"No," he said. "I'm not."

...

"Edward you absolute moron!" Harry shouted.

"I'm sorry, okay?" Edward sighed. 

"What happened to easing him into it?" Marcel inquired, giving the eldest sibling an unimpressed look. 

"Look, he asked!" Edward defended himself. "What was I supposed to say?" 

"Well the cat's out of the bag now, anyway." Marcel said. "So it doesn't really matter."

"What did he say?" Harry asked, sitting down on the sofa next to Edward.

"He... Didn't actually seem to mind." Edward said. 

"He didn't?" Both Marcel and Harry said in unison. 

Edward shook his head.

"Well that's- surprising." Marcel said at the same time as Harry uttered "great news." 

"So what's the game plan from here on out, then?" Edward looked between the other two. "We ask him out?" 

"We still can't do that," Marcel shook his head. 

"But... What doesn't show, doesn't tell, right?" Harry said quietly.

"What do you mean?" 

"If we were to date him, but very quietly and sneakily." Harry said a little louder. "If no one notices, what's the harm?" 

"But if someone notices—" Marcel interrupted.

"But what if they don't?" Harry raised a brow, smile broadening when his brothers did not seem to come up with an argument. "So that's a yes, then?" 

"Well, we will have to ask him that, won't we?" 

...  
Louis and Delilah were sat quietly at their usual bench out in the rehab courtyard, each with a cigarette between their fingers and the ashtray between them. 

"I'm a week and a half free today," Delilah said suddenly, her voice very frail, and looking up at Louis who reached just an inch or two taller than her. 

Louis looked at her. "What? You're—" 

A smile found its way to Delilah's lips. "Yeah, haven't taken M in almost two weeks. Molly asked if I needed a new fill, and I thought back to our conversation and found that I didn't want to."

Louis dropped his cigarette on the ground in excitement as he shot to his feet. 

"Lilah, that's amazing!" He hugged her tightly, almost lifting her of the bench, making her giggle. "I am so proud of you." 

"Thanks, Lou." She said when they had separated. "I know it's not a lot but—" 

"It's important to celebrate the small victories too, Lilah." He pointed out. 

Delilah nodded. "Yeah, you're right. I am actually pretty happy with myself." She smiled.

"As you should," Louis put a hand over hers on the bench. "And if you're feeling withdrawal, you can always come and find me, you know that, right? If you don't want to go to Marcel or something, I mean."  
"I know, thanks flower." She smiled. "Let's head back inside, it's getting chilly."

"Next time we'll bring blankets," Louis agreed, opening the door for her to step through first into the toasty warmth of the rehab, closing out the early December chill.

They were just about to head over to the common area to put on a movie, maybe persuade Liam to make them some popcorn, when Marcel peeked out from his office.

"Hey Louis, can I borrow you for a moment?" 

Louis looked quizzically at him for a moment before nodding, turning to his friend.

"Go and chose a movie Lilah, I'll be right there." 

The raven-haired girl nodded, giving a small wave before skipping down the hall, Louis turning back to Marcel who was holding the door for him.

Well inside the office, Louis caught sight of both Harry and Edward standing leaned against the desk, all three of them surveying him.

"What's all this about?" Louis asked, feeling unease creep up his spine. What if more hand sanitizer had gone missing, would they be blaming him?

"We wanted to talk some things over with you," Edward said finally.

"About what Edward told you yesterday." Harry added on.

"About us," Marcel finished.

"About you... What?" Louis cocked his head to the side, still not moving from where he was, pressed against the door. 

"About us... being in a polyamorous relationship," Harry stood up from where he'd been at the desk, taking a few careful steps towards Louis. "And potentially being in one, with you." 

Louis' mouth dropped open. "With me?" 

"Yes," Marcel nodded. "If you would like to, that is." 

"I— Thought that wasn't allowed?" Louis asked. 

"It's not," Edward said. "But we are willing to risk it, only if you are, though."

"Are you going to be in trouble if someone finds out?" 

"Well," Marcel looked a little uncomfortable. "We can lose our licenses, and of course, this place too." He gestured around them at the office. 

"I don't want you to risk—" Louis started, but Harry interrupted him.

"Do you want to be with us? Everything else aside, do you see yourself in a relationship with us?" 

Louis stared between the three for a moment. Edward surveyed him closely, as if he could read the answer, as if it was written in the reflection of Louis' eyes. Harry stood tugging at his blue scrubs nervously, biting his lip and gaze not quite meeting Louis'. Marcel stood with his hands clasped in front of him, weighing subtly at the balls of his feet, as if standing still required too much effort. 

"I... Think so." Louis nodded finally. 

"We will start off slow, of course." Harry said gently. "But we will have to be very careful, this cannot get out."

"Not until you do, at least." Edward said with a smirk, trying to lighten the mood. Louis gave a small snort. 

"Well now I have an even better reason to get better as fast as possible, don't I?" 

"You sure do," the triplets said together. 

And then Marcel added, "Louis are you going to stand glued to that corner or are you going to come over here?" 

Louis giggled, taking two small skips across the hardwood flooring until he was in front of the bespectacled triplet. He had to crane his neck upwards to be able to look into his face when they were this close. 

"Are you going to stop calling me Louis, and call me your boyfriend?" 

Marcel only laughed, enveloping him in a close hug, resting his head atop Louis', letting the younger boy snuggle closer to him, breathing in the scent of his cologne.

"It would be my pleasure, boyfriend."


	12. Ch. 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s this Wednesday’s chap! Happy reading xx

"Hi,"

Liam was wrenched out of his thoughts, gaze shifting from where it had been subconsciously glued to the entrance windows to the front of the reception desk, where none other than Louis stood, a smug look in his eye.

"Oh, hi Louis." He said, shifting focus to the blue-eyed boy. "Can I help you with anything?" 

"What are you looking at?" Louis asked innocently, the gleam in his eye giving him away. "Are you... Waiting for someone?" 

"No, why would I—What do you mean?" Liam spluttered; Louis' smile grew. 

"You know that Niall's about to be here any minute now," Louis said. "And you have gone through the effort to style your hair extra nice today and is that- a new cologne?" 

"It's not—I'm not-"

"And now you're getting red," Louis teased. "Tell you what I think, I think you have a little something for my friend."

"I don't Louis," Liam tried to convince not only Louis, but it was a feeble one. "I'm just being nice to him, as I am to everyone else coming in here."

"I don't see you combing your hair extra nice for me," Louis gave a mock pout. "Or putting on what smells like a way too expensive cologne to be wearing at a casual day at work."

Liam sighed. He knew a lost fight when he saw one. "Alright, fine. I just—" He leaned a little closer to Louis so that no one could overhear them. "I think he's cute, happy?" 

"Very," Louis smiled broadly. "Because he thinks you're cute too, and here he comes!" 

And before Liam had the time to react, Louis had sprinted off towards the common area and not even a second later, the sound of the door opening and closing shifted his attention.

"Hey Liam, everything good?" 

The petite blond was suddenly over at the reception desk, his arms resting on the dark oak surface, contrasting nicely with his pale skin. Liam had to shake his head to get out of his trance. 

He thinks you're cute too.

"Hello, Niall." Liam swallowed. "I'm alright, you?" 

"I'm good." Niall nodded, Liam thought he looked kind of nervous. 

They stood in silence for a moment, neither of them making a move to check Niall in under the 'Visitors' tab. 

Liam swallowed again. He could feel his heart in his throat. 

He thinks you're cute too.

"Hey, Niall—" 

He spoke just as Niall began saying "So is Louis—" 

"Oh, you first." Liam thought he could see a faint blush creeping up on the blond's cheeks. 

Louis better not be fucking with me.

"I was wondering if you'd want to take a coffee sometime? I mean only if you—" 

"I'd love to." Niall smiled brightly. "When are you off?" 

Liam felt as an entire zoo had erupted in his stomach. "I'm finished at four. There's a really nice café just around the corner from here, we can go there, if you want?"

"Sounds lovely," Niall nodded. "I'll meet you outside at four, then."

"Perfect." Liam smiled. 

"So... Can you sign me in?" Niall asked after another moment of silence.

"What—Oh, of course." Now it was Liam's time to turn red. "Of course, you're good to go." 

He wrote down Niall's name under the visitor's tab, his fingers trembling a little too much to go unnoticed, but Niall said nothing. 

"Great, see you later." Niall gave a small wave before walking down the hall towards Louis' room. 

...

"He asked you out?" Louis almost tackled Niall to the floor in the excitement to hug his best friend. "Really?" 

"He did, just like that." Niall beamed. "We're going out for a coffee when his shift ends." 

"That's fantastic," Louis laughed. "I'm so happy for you."

"I'm guessing it's thanks to you though?" Niall raised a brow at Louis who now smiled a little bashfully.

"I might have told him that you fancy him."

"Louis!"  
"Well how else was I supposed to find out if he liked you back?" 

"But what if he only asked me out because he's nice and you basically told him that I wanted him to?"  
Louis gave him an 'are you serious?' look before saying "for the record, he said that he thought you were cute first. He sat staring out the window waiting for you and all."

"Wait, really?" Niall said.

"Yes really, so now stop doubting yourself and go get your prince charming." Louis said, shooing him out of his bed.

"But it's only two in the afternoon," Niall protested. "I have two hours."

"Don't pretend you don't want to rush home to shower and redo your hair about a million times, babes." Louis only said, poking him in the lower back with his toe to get him to move towards the door. 

"Why do you know me so well?" Niall groaned, but gave Louis a grateful smile. 

"That's what years of too close friendship does, Ni-Ni." Louis teased. "Now go!" 

"Fine, I'm leaving." Niall swatted at his foot when he tried to nudge him in the back again. "But I'm coming back tomorrow. You have something to tell me, I can feel it."

"Wha—" Now it was Louis to look stunned.

"You're buzzing with it." Niall said, shrugging. "And that's what years of too close relationship does, Loubear." He teased before pushing the door open, "I love you, see you tomorrow." 

And just like that Louis was alone in his room once more. 

...

Louis sat once more in Edward's office for their afternoon session. They had managed to dig just a fraction of an inch deeper into the mindboggling mess that was Louis' past, and now he sat with his arms hugging his knees on the plush armchair, feeling emotionally drained. 

"Are you okay, Lou?" Edward asked carefully, closing his notebook and placing it on the table between them.

"Not really," Louis said honestly. "This is so hard."

"I know, baby." Edward said, leaning forward so that his elbows rested on his knees. "I know, and I'm sorry I'm making you do this. But can you trust that you'll come out on the other side even stronger?" 

Louis sighed shakily; he felt the familiar lump in his throat but he did not want to cry no more. 

"I know," he said. "I know that it'll get better, but I just—Don't know if I can get there, you know? Get out on the other side, I mean."

"I know you can." Edward said with gentle finality in his voice. "I know that it's going to be hard, and uncomfortable, and you'll want to quit many times, but I know that you can."

"You think so?" Louis sniffed.

"I know so, love. And you have me, Harry, and Marcel by your side the entire way, okay? We will never leave your side, so when you're feeling alone in all of this, just try to think of us, know that you're not alone, and you won't be ever again."

"Thank you," he said quietly. 

"Anytime," Edward smiled. "Now, before we end it for today, do you want to go through the questions?"

Louis hesitated, but nodded.

"Great." Edward sat up straighter in his chair. "Who was responsible for the car accident?"

Louis' first instinct was to say himself, but found something was stopping him. A different voice inside his head had become visible, and this time being heard above the others. 

"It was the truck driver's fault." Louis said, and somehow felt a weight being lifted off of his shoulders. "Whether incidental or not, it was their fault."

Edward fought hard not to punch the air victoriously, they were getting somewhere. 

"How do you feel about the events?"

"I feel..." Louis thought, letting that new voice in his mind take over from the old ones. "Really sad, and angry. I hate the thought of them not being here with me anymore. I hate that they left me here. I feel alone, but I'm starting to realize that I'm... not." He finished.

Edward nodded, encouraging him to keep going.

"I'm starting to think that, no one is truly ever gone. Not until they are forgotten. And I'll never forget them, so that way they're always with me. Just not in a physical sense."

"That's a very beautiful way to think of it." Edward said. "And they will never disappear, not if you carry them with you."

Louis nodded. 

They sat quiet for a moment before Edward spoke up, he could not help it. "But this is great progress, Louis. I know that this is extremely hard for you. But just now, realize how you didn't say that you feel guilty?"

"I— Didn't." Louis stammered. 

Edward smiled kindly. "You didn't love, and that's fantastic. You shouldn't feel guilty for something that you had no power over what so ever. You should take all the what if's and throw them out the window for good, okay?" 

"I can do that, I think." Louis nodded, feeling a little encouraged. 

"I know you can. It will take time, but you'll get there." Edward stood up. "Now, how about we hug it out before you go see Harry, hm?" 

Louis stood up too, smiling shyly as he tucked himself close to the taller man as he felt his arms enclose him snugly, keeping him safe. It somehow felt as when he was in his arms, nothing could hurt him. No mind monsters, no evil thought or harmful expectations. It was only Louis, and Edward. 

When they separated Louis had to shake his head to come back to reality. He made to walk to the closed door, but in a split decision turned around, stood on his tippy toes and kissed Edward on the cheek, smiling bashfully before slipping out the door to meet Harry.

As the door closed behind him, Edward stood stunned in the middle of his office, fingers gently touching the spot on his cheek where Louis' lips had touched him. A warm feeling spread within him, as if the sun was warming him from the inside out.

What was this boy doing to him?


	13. Ch. 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo I was supposed to get this up last week but I got sick and then I totally forgot to like the dumbass I am:) anyway, enjoy!

"Ha! I think that means you owe $800, my good sir." 

"You can suck my ass," Louis grumbled as he handed the colourful notes over to harry, who sported a grin like the Cheshire cat. 

"Aw, you're just a sore loser." Harry corrected his different piles of Monopoly currency into neat piles, laughing when Louis glowered at him.

"I'm in bankruptcy now because of your arse," Louis pouted. "Is that really a way to treat me—" He mouthed your boyfriend. They were in the common area, after all.

Harry's stomach still made summersaults at the word. He tried to convey the fond he felt for Louis in his eyes.

"Don't be sad, let's do something else instead." He suggested, already picking up his cards and putting them back in the game box. 

"What do you want to do?" Louis asked, putting the lid back on the box and carrying it to the game cabinet. 

"Watch a movie?" Harry suggested.

Louis grimaced and shook his head. "That's all I've been doing since I came here, I've seen everything."

"Let's go on a walk, then." Harry shrugged.

Louis raised a brow "A walk? Like down the corridor?" 

"No dumbass, outside."

"Out—What?" Louis stared at him. "I'm not allowed outside."

"With me you are." Harry smirked at him. "So, what do you say?" 

...

"I feel like I'm fifteen sneaking out of my parents house to go to a party." Louis could not help but giggle as the door closed behind him and Harry. 

Harry only smiled, walking over to the locked gate at the far end of the home's fenced courtyard and unlocked it, holding the door open to Louis who stepped through.

It felt unreal, almost. He had been at the home for a little over a month, Christmas had flown by, and the new year was approaching. Louis had not celebrated the holiday; when the halls were decked in tinsel and red Santa hats, he hid in his room. The triplets had asked him why, but he had said that he would tell them, later. They had accepted his answer and they had moved on. The decorations had been taken down, and now been replaced by garlands in silver and gold, the numbers 2021 plastered everywhere. They were ready for the new year.

"Haz," Louis smiled, turning around to face the taller man who was securing the lock in the courtyard gate. "It's snowing!"

"It is," Harry smiled, pulling up the hood of his jacket as he walked over to Lois, steering their steps along the road towards the large city park. It was not that late, but the sun was already setting behind the tall buildings, making the snow on the ground glitter. 

"Hey Haz?" Louis said after a moment of them walking in silence.

"Hm?"

"Am I really allowed out if I'm with you, or was that just a rule you came up with?"

"Well..." Harry began.

"Harry, really?" Louis almost whined at him. "I don't want to break the rules, I want to get out of that home so that I can have a real relationship, with you."

"It's not technically breaking the rules," Harry defended. "You are allowed to go on walks if you are accompanied with one of the nurses. It's just—You have to get permission from the doctor first. So that the patient is, you know, safe and all."

"You didn't tell Marcel?" Louis groaned. "He's going to murder me when he finds out."

"If he finds out," Harry pointed out.

Louis gave him an 'are you serious?' type of look. "Of course he'll find out. It's Marcel."

"Well—Fine." Harry said, putting a hand lightly on Louis' shoulder, stopping him. "But it sure as hell was worth it, wasn't it?" 

Louis looked at where they were. They had stopped on the trail around the park, just by a frozen pond, the last rays of sun bouncing of it, making it glow. There were tracks in the ice, as if someone had ice skated across it earlier that day. The branches of the surrounding trees were hanging heavy with fresh snow, making the scene look lie it was taken straight out of a Christmas card. 

Louis put his glove covered hand over Harry's on his shoulder. "It's... Really pretty."

"Worth Marcel's potential rage?" Harry teased.

Louis snorted. "Yeah." 

...

Niall wrung his hands nervously as he stood outside the café. A million doubts had been spinning in his head since he had left the rehab to go home and make himself presentable. What if Liam stood him up? Or worse, only saw this as a friend-date? But did you invite new friends on a one-on-one coffee? Maybe you did, should he start asking his friends—

"Hey, Niall." 

Niall's head snapped up from where it had been leaned towards the pavement at the snow. There stood Liam, in all his handsome glory.

"I'm so sorry I'm a bit late, we had a little bit of an emergency at the home just before I was about to leave." 

"Oh no, everything's ok?" Niall asked as Liam pushed the door to the café open for him, letting the warm cinnamon roll-scent engulf them.

"It will be, and it's not Louis. Don't worry." Liam smiled kindly. "What are you feeling like? Me myself is thinking the pecan pie. They make it to die for here. Or if that's not your jam, the caramel fudge cake is good, too."

Niall smiled up at him, standing a little closer than strictly necessary in the small coffee shop. "I'll have what you're having." He said.

When they had gotten their orders, an extra-large caramel fudge cake to share and two lattes, they sat down in two armchairs by the window with a small round table between them.

"So, who is Niall, exactly?" Liam asked after a moments silence.

"Who am I?" Niall leaned back in his chair with his steaming cup between his hands. "That's a hard question." 

Liam shrugged. "Not really. What's something that represent you?"

"I don't know, really. I have the trivial facts, like I have a mother and a brother. And Louis, who is almost like a brother."

"What happened to your father?" Liam asked carefully.

"Died, three years ago." Niall said. 

"Oh, I apologize."

"No don't," Niall waved his hand in dismissal. "He was getting old, it was cancer that took him out. But he lived a long and happy life, he wasn't sad to go. Just sad to leave us behind, but not to go."

"That's... Very beautiful." Liam said quietly. 

Niall nodded, taking a sip of his drink. 

"What else is there to know about Niall, then?" Liam asked. "Any hobbies, hidden talents?"

"I can hold my breath for almost ten minutes."

Liam almost choked on his drink. "What? In one go?" 

Niall nodded again.

"That's insane." Liam laughed. "How did you even learn that?" 

"I was often put in the corner as a kid for misbehaving, and I used to make the time go faster by practicing while I counted the seconds on my fingers." Niall laughed, too. "I felt that if I would be stuck there for the next thirty minutes or whatever, I might as well do something useful."

"Smart kid," Liam nodded. 

They sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, eating of the cake while snow covered the pavement outside. 

"How long have you known Louis?" Liam asked. 

"Oh, about two years now." Niall said, putting down his fork. "We used to work the same restaurant."

"Really? Do you still work there or...?" 

"No, I quit shortly after Louis, uh—Lost the job." Niall explained.

"Why—"   
"They found out about his... Issue," Niall said. "And they felt as if he was a liability, so they fired him. Not on fair grounds if you ask me, but hey."

"I see," Liam nodded. "So what are you doing now?" 

"I'm a uni freshman at the moment, studying criminal justice."

"That's cool, like FBI type stuff?" 

Niall laughed. "Not quite, but sure."

Then it hit Liam like a ton of bricks. 

"Wait—Did you say you're a freshman?"

"Yeah, why?" 

"How old are you, if you don't mind me asking?" Liam was not sure he wanted to know.

"I'm nineteen." Niall was studying him carefully for his reaction.

Some colour seemed to seep from Liam's features. 

"Niall, I'm twenty-eight."

"So?" 

"What do you mean 'so'? I'm almost a decade older than you."

"I kinda find that a little hot, if I'm being completely honest." Niall tried in vain to hide his smile behind his mug. 

"Really?"

"I don't mind if you don't." Niall gave him an inquiring look.

"I... Don't." He said finally. 

"Good," Niall smiled satisfactorily, taking another bite of cake.

Liam looked at him with a look of mingled fond and amusement.

"What?" 

"Nothing you just—" He stood up and leaned across the table with a napkin in his hand. "cream, on your cheek." He explained as he wiped it away.

Niall cursed himself for thinking that he wished Liam had removed the cream with his lips instead. 

...

The afternoon had been very pleasant, Louis thought as they headed back through the snow towards the home. He had opened up to Harry about his backstory, and how he had landed himself here. Harry had been a good listener, saying all the right things and doing everything just right. He had even kissed him on the cheek. Louis felt as if he was a thirteen-year-old stereotypical schoolgirl with a crush, all giddy and excited. 

When they opened the door to re-enter the warm and toasty home however, he felt all but excited. 

"Nice walk?" 

Marcel stood leaned against the wall opposite, looking very unimpressed. 

"I—" Louis tried.

"No talking, my office if you please." And he turned and walked away.

Shit.


	14. Ch. 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so slow on updating on here Jesus, I’ll try to do better ! It’s a litter filler-ish but oh well

Louis felt as he was walking to his doom when he closed the door to Marcel's office. The green-eyed man stood with a stern expression leaned against his desk.

"Marcel I am so sorry, I thought you knew and I didn't—" 

"Hey, hey." Marcel's tough exterior fell instantly. He hurried forward and enveloped the smaller one in a tight hug. "Calm down, baby. Breathe, okay?" 

Louis felt the tears forming, and he desperately tried blinking them away.

"I—Are you mad at me?" 

"No, I'm not." Marcel assured him. "I am a little mad at my brother for sneaking you out like that, but that wasn't your fault."

"How do you know it was Harry's idea?" Louis asked.

"Because I know that you wouldn't do anything to deliberately disappoint me." He said simply.

"Oh." 

"Yeah," Marcel gave him a small smile. "You okay?" 

"I think so, yeah." 

"Good." Marcel planted a soft kiss atop his head. "I do have to punish you for breaking the rules, however."

Louis' jaw dropped to the floor. "What do you mean punish me?"

Marcel put his hand at the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Well... Lou, how do you think it'd look if one of my patients snuck out without authorized permission, and I did nothing about it?"

"It'd look... Bad. Like special treatment." Louis sighed defeatedly, head tilted towards his feet. "Well, go right ahead then."

"Baby," Marcel put a hand under his chin, shifting his gaze upwards to meet his own. "Please don't be mad at me, I have to. For all our sakes, and our secret."

"I know," Louis nodded. "I'm not mad, Marcie."

A smile tugged on Marcel's lips. "I like that nickname." 

"Like it enough to not punish me?" Louis asked.

"Don't be cheeky," Marcel flicked his nose playfully before walking over to his desk, Louis followed and slung himself down into the armchair across from Marcel's.

"I'll have to remove your television and phone privileges for the week, I'm afraid."

"Aw come on," Louis groaned. "Me and Lilah are having marathons on Friends."

"Not for the next week you're not." Marcel looked up at Louis over his computer screen. "Just ask next time before you go out, okay?" 

"No fair." Louis pouted, although he knew that he deserved it, he had known that was against the rules, and he didn't want Marcel to get in trouble. "But I have a question, Marcie." 

"Hm?" 

"Why did you look so angry with me if you weren't?"

"Oh that," Marcel nodded. "It wasn't me who figured out you were gone. It was one of the nurses. I had to kind of play it up, since you're not allowed to without specific permission in case they were watching you come back. Our little secret, you know." He winked.

"You sneaky man, Marcel Styles." Louis shook his head at him. "You almost gave me a heart attack."

Marcel laughed. "I'm sorry, babe. Now if you excuse me, I will have to go and talk to my dear brother about irresponsible behaviour. May I escort you to your room along the way?"

"You may," Louis giggled as Marcel opened the door for him, bending down in a small and somewhat ridiculous bow.

... 

Louis had been in his room for an entire minute, barely having the time to change out of his snow covered and wet sweatpants and into a new pair when a rapt knocking sounded on his door. He had not even granted the visitor permission before the door opened, and Delilah came inside.

"Lou what is it I'm hearing about you sneaking outside with a nurse?" She asked, very fast, as she plopped down atop his bed. 

"Wha—Who did you hear that from?" Louis asked, gobsmacked. 

"He's not denying it!" Delilah teased. "Who was it? Was it Styles?" 

"I—Lilah, how?" Louis was a stuttering mess. 

"I'm not blind," Delilah said with an exasperated look. "I can put two and two together. First you can call them by first name and not by title, then you're spending like a lot, a lot of time with them. And to top it all off you disappear with a nurse outside to the big world. I wonder who that could've been with." She put her hand to her chin as if running her fingers through an imaginary beard in thought. 

"Fuck off," Louis groaned, chucking a pair of rolled up wool socks at her head, which she managed to doge. 

"Don't hate me for spilling truths," she grinned. "So?" 

"So what?" 

"Are Y'all dating or what?" 

"Delilah!" Louis whisper-yelled. 

"What?" 

"Not so loud, please." 

"So you are," she stated. 

"There's no use trying to hide anything from you, I've found out." Louis shrugged. 

"Good," She smiled. "I'm glad that you are, though. Dating Styles, I mean."

"It's not... Only one Styles." Louis admitted, the cat was already out the bag so he might as well.

Delilah's jaw dropped. "Wait, hold up. So you mean to tell me..." 

"That they are poly, yes." Louis nodded. "Just please don't tell anyone."

"I won't, I won't!" She said quickly, mimicking zipping up her mouth. "Your secret is safe with me, flower. But poly though, how's that?"

"I don't know yet," Louis sat down on the bed next to her, his legs crossed over hers. "It's too new to tell."

"I'd think it was hot, a little kinky you know? Having more than one lover." 

Louis snorted, flipping her off when she poked her tongue out at him.

"Thank you, by the way." Louis said after a moment. "For not making this whole poly thing weird or uncomfortable."

"Hey don't thank me," Delilah took his hand in hers softly, "You do you, and that's no one else's business. People who feel like they have to have their say in other people's relationship need to evaluate themselves, and then educate. If it's not hurting anyone, just live your best life, I'd say."

Louis smiled. "Thanks." 

"Anytime," Delilah smiled. "However," she added after a moment's silence. "That is very much not allowed—I'm not saying you shouldn't date them! I'm just saying, you've got some balls, flower." 

Louis cocked his head at her. "What do you mean?" 

"Well for starters, their licenses would be gone that fast," she snapped her fingers. "But also, they'd probably go to jail in about three seconds. If you engage in anything sexual, that is."

Louis' eyes widened. "What? But—I'm twenty, I'm legal and everything."

"Yes," Delilah nodded patiently. "But through most of society's eyes, you, and myself, are considered mentally ill, remember? We're considered sick cause we're in here, and that would mean that they could go to jail for 'taking advantage of you.'" 

"That's mental," Louis shook his head.

"Yeah, I know." Delilah said sadly. "But I just wanted to let you know—I'm not stopping you or anything, I just figured you weren't aware. It's a pretty new thing, or old and recently reinstated, rather. Why, I have no fucking clue. It's from back when mental hospitals and asylums and that stuff were a thing, and the people in there were thought of as less minded than the rest of society. It's really sick, but they were often taken advantage of and used without their consent by the doctors there, it's a real long time ago, but it still makes my hair stand." She shivered. 

Louis nodded. "Thanks," he said again. "I'll keep that in mind."

"If you keep trying to be as secretive about all that as you can, at least until you get out, you'll be fine." She assured him, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I know you will. In the meantime, wanna watch some Friends?" 

"Can't," Louis groaned, flopping back onto his mattress. "Marcel removed my television privileges for being out without 'authorized permission'." 

"Well that sucks ass, Delilah said. "For how long?" 

"The entire week."

"Well fuck me, let's play some Ludo then." She stood up. "Come on you sad sack, up you get." 

Louis sighed dramatically and stood up to follow Delilah out the door; his mind spinning a thousand miles an hour. Delilah has given him a lot to think about, and that he did, long into the nigh he tossed and turned in his bed. 

They could go to jail, to jail. All because of him.

He could not let go of the question that kept popping up, tapping him on the shoulder every two seconds. Tantalizing him. 

Was it all worth it?


	15. Ch. 13

“Knock, Knock!”  
Louis groaned, pressing his face firmer to his mattress. “Who’s there?” He called.  
“Harry,” came the voice on the other side of the door.  
“Well fuck off then, Harry.” Louis called back, not in the mood to deal with that situation right now, the talk that they inevitably had to have.   
“No,” the door swung open, revealing Harry with a pout on his face. “You’re supposed to say ‘Harry who?’ so that I can say Haribo.” He held a golden bag of Haribo gummybears for Louis to see. “Want some?”  
Louis could not help the grin taking over his face, he just could not with this man.   
“You are such a cheeseball, Jesus.” He snorted, sitting up with his legs criss-crossed and faced him. “So now when you’ve so rudely disturbed me, what’s up?”

Harry took that as a green light that Louis would not shout at him, so he entered the room fully, closing the door and leaned against it, popping a gummy bear into his mouth. He stretched the bag out towards as an offering, and shrugged when the boy declined.   
“Are you mad at me?” He asked.  
“Mad?” Louis scrunched his brow. “Why would I be mad?”   
“I made you break the rules, and got you in trouble for it.” Harry said. “That’s why you haven’t left your room for days, isn’t it?” 

Louis stared dumbfounded at the teddy bear of a man for a moment, before swallowing to speak.   
“Harry, no.” He shook his head. “I’m not mad at you, and I barely got in trouble, Marcel took my television and phone privileges for a week, I’ll manage.”  
“Then why—”  
“I’ve been-“ Louis didn’t want to say it. “I’ve been avoiding you, okay? All of you.” He added when Harry looked like he was about to protest.  
“Why?” Harry pushed off the door, sitting hesitantly at the foot of Louis’ bed, relacing a little when the younger one didn’t protest.   
“Because… I couldn’t stop thinking about what Lilah told me the other day.”   
Harry stiffened. “What did she tell you?”   
Louis watched him somewhat confusedly. “About the whole ‘I’m ill and engaging in a relationship with me is illegal.’ And that you’ll go to jail.”  
Harry seemed to loosen up at that. “Oh, okay.”  
“Wait—What did you think she told me?”   
“No, nothing!” Harry said hurriedly.  
Louis narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously, but said nothing.   
“So uhm, the whole illegal thing…”   
“Yeah,” Louis nodded. “Did you know?”  
Harry leaned back somewhat, looking nervous. “You’re going to be mad at me.”  
Louis blinked. “You knew?”   
“Well, kind of.”   
“What do you mean ‘kind of’?” Louis commanded.   
“Well I knew of the illegal part, maybe not about the jail but—Yeah.”   
“Then why did you ask me to be your- your boyfriend?” Louis really wanted to shout at him, but causing a scene would not help their current predicament.   
“Because,” Harry laid his hand tentatively over Louis’ on the white bedding. “Because I really like you, we all do, and you’re worth sacrificing for.”  
“But Harry,” Louis tried to reason with him. “Not worth going to jail for, surely.”  
Harry only shrugged as if to say ‘well, yeah’. 

Louis wanted to punch him, or kiss him. Maybe both?  
He compromised by shuffling closer to the taller man, snuggling up to his side. He whispered something that Harry didn’t quite catch, his face buried in the crook of Harry’s neck, taking in the scent of his after shave.   
“What was that?” Harry asked with a small grin, tugging the boy closer and circling his arms around him.  
“I might really like you, too.” He said a little louder.  
“Oh, might like me, are you?” Harry teased, laughing when Louis shoved him in the side, grumbling “Fuck off,” but hiding his giddy smile against Harry’s shoulder. 

…

Louis had just gotten back from the dining hall after a very satisfying taco-Tuesday dinner, when he stopped abruptly.

“Niall?” He flung himself at the blond boy standing against the adjacent wall, a shit eating grin on his face. “What are you doing here?”   
“I’ll tell you in your room,” Niall began ushering Louis down the hall. “Come on.”

Well inside the privacy of room 365, Louis perched on his bed, watching Niall expectantly.  
“Well? Spill.”   
“Don’t you think we should go to the common room and grab some tea first?” Niall asked, laughing when Louis grabbed his pillow, ready to fling it at his best friend. “Fine, fine, I’ll tell you. Calm down.”   
“I am calm,” Louis huffed.   
“Sure you are,” Niall nodded, patting Louis on the head before sitting down beside him.  
“Well first of all, I’m moving from home soon.”  
“Really?” Louis gasped, “I’m so happy for you, Ni!”   
“Yeah, I feel kind of bad leaving my mum though, with the little ones and all.”  
“I’m sure she’ll manage,” Louis comforted him. “She’s a fucking ironwoman, your mum.”  
Niall let out a small laugh. “Yeah she is, I’ll step in and help as often as I can, though.”  
“Where are you moving, then?”   
“That’s kind of the thing… Now don’t be mad at me, please?”   
“Why does everyone think I’ll be mad today?” Louis sighed. “I won’t, go on.”  
“I’m moving in with my boyfriend, Liam, in two weeks.”  
“What?!”   
“I said don’t be mad!” Niall shouted over Louis’ loud protests, placing a hand over his mouth.

Louis licked it, making Niall draw back with a disgusted look on his face. “Ew, Louis!”   
“Shut up,” Louis waved him off. “Now what the fuck do you mean you’re moving in with Liam, you barely know him.”   
“I know,” Niall had the decency to look a little shameful, at least. “But I feel like I’ve known him for years, we get along so well and he’s really nice Lou. I promise.”  
“Haven’t you guys been on like, one date?”   
“Four, actually.”   
“Wait, when—”   
“Well, after our fist date at the coffee shop he drove me home, and followed me to the door. Mum caught us saying goodbye and like the mum she is, invited him for tea. They get along great, by the way, and Liam’s really good with the twins.”  
“And then…” Louis prompted.   
“Then we went out again the next day, and he brought me to this really cute Italian place. Then we went back to his and…”   
“You slept with him, Niall!” Louis gasped.  
“No, dumbass,” Niall swatted at him. “Well, I wanted to but he’s too much of a gentleman, so we just made out. Then it got too late for me to go home, so I slept over and… Yeah. We just click. I- I think he’s the one, Lou.”  
“You’ve known the man for what, a week?” Louis raised a brow.  
“Well don’t you agree that he’s very charming and nice?” Niall said back.  
Damn it.   
“Sure, fine. He’s great, whatever.” Louis rolled his eyes, grinning when Niall pushed him over, landing them both side by side on the bed.  
“If you’re happy, then I guess so am I.” Louis sighed, snuggling close to Niall’s side, albeit with a guilt gnawing in the pit of his stomach.  
Should he tell him about the triplets?


	16. Ch. 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry I've been gone for so long. I've been having health issues but now I'm back on track, I hope you enjoy :)

“Merry Christmas, flower!” Delilah squealed as she practically bounced into his room.  
“Shove your merriness up your arse, Lilah. Please.” Louis groaned, burying his head underneath his pillow to escape the onslaught of the bright morning sun.   
“Someone’s grumpy.” She teased as she curled up at the foot of his bed, ignoring his groan of protest when she tugged at his blankets to cover her, too. “Not a Christmas person?”   
“You could say that,” Louis said, giving up on falling back asleep and sitting up, facing her. “Alice would have been fourteen today, after all.”   
“Oh right,” Delilah deflated a bit where she sat. “Shit—Your sister- I mean I… I’m sorry.”   
“It’s fine.” Louis shrugged. “It’s been two years, I’ll have to get over it someday.”  
“Lou, no.” Delilah put her hand on top of his on the blankets. “I didn’t mean it like that, that must’ve been so hard for you. And for the record, I don’t believe that those we’ve lost are ever truly gone, you know?”   
Louis looked up at her with a frown. “What do you mean?”   
“That they’re always with you. Both here,” she placed a hand over her heart. “But also, just around us. Have you ever tried to fall asleep but it was impossible because you felt as if someone was staring at you, yet no one was there?”  
Louis pondered that over for a moment, then nodded hesitantly.   
“I believe that’s them, watching over us.” She gave him a warm smile.

Louis noticed suddenly how beautiful she was, with her big hazel eyes and raven black hair. It had been a little longer than at her shoulders when he had met her, but had reached its way almost all the way to her navel now. Louis wondered vaguely how her hair could grow that fast. And he suddenly realised how young she was, well maybe not figuratively speaking, she was only a year younger than himself after all, but she just looked so young and delicate. As if all the despair and misery of the world had not affected her yet, or maybe she was just superb at hiding it.  
“What are you staring at?” Delilah’s voice brought him out of his trance.   
“Oh—Nothing,” Louis said, giving her a smile. “I just, how do you do it?”  
“Do what?”   
“Stay so… Positive, and bubbly? Isn’t it hard?”   
Delilah thought for a moment, before shaking her head.   
“I mean, not really. I just find that being bitter doesn’t change anything, you know? I’d just feel worse if I, on top of all this shit, would go around being bitter at everything. I reckon my soul would rot, and what am I then? A shell?” She sighed.   
“My mother died when I was seven, she overdosed. My brother found her when he came home from school, he was eleven. I was so angry then, mad at the world and wondering why it was punishing me, what had I done that was that bad? My brother and I got into the care of my aunt, she wasn’t doing so good after mum’s death, but she did her best to take care of us. We had it pretty bad, she didn’t have too much money and then she was given two kids to care for on top of it all. She does a lot of charity work, and works nights doing whatever job she can take.”  
Louis sat quiet, letting her pour it all out. He had wondered about what happened to Delilah, and he was not about to stop her telling him now.   
“My brother, Elijah, started using M when he was fourteen, started selling it at sixteen. My aunt was livid when she found out, she went through all of his stuff and flushed it all away down the toilet. Or so she thought she did.”  
“Oh no,” Louis whispered, he could tell what was coming.   
“I found him when I came home from my choir rehearsal. My aunt had taken an extra night shift, so she wasn’t home. He went the same way that mum did, I couldn’t do anything, he was already gone.” She looked down at her hands clenched in her lap, then up at Louis. “And that’s when it all went down the drain for me, too. I started using, just like they had, I had to get rid of the empty feeling I had. My aunt found them when she was searching for headache cure in my bag, and when I saw how much it destroyed her, I knew that I had to make it end, before it ended me, you know? I decided to settle my feud with mother earth or God, or whoever runs this shitshow, and I came here. Feeling bitter took so much from me already, I won’t let it take anymore.”  
Louis could not help but smile. “Jesus, you are one peculiar girl, Lilah. You’re a fucking fighter.”  
“Thanks, and you are one sorry looking flower,” Delilah laughed and poked him in the side when he began to protest. “Now go get dressed, we’re getting waffles for breakfast today!”  
“I will, when you leave,” Louis said.  
“Aww,” Delilah pouted, walking towards the door. “But if I promise I won’t peek?” She put her hands in front of her face, peeking through her fingers at Louis.  
“Go save me a seat, you perv,” Louis laughed as Delilah blew him a kiss before she was out the door. 

He sighed, padding over to his dresser to get the usual longsleeve and sweats, glancing at the red Santa hat laying folded up on top of the dresser, probably from one of the nurses, before shoving it as deep as it could go into one of the drawers. He would let himself feel bitter for one mor day, just a day.  
Then he left. 

…  
Delilah and Louis sat together at a small table in the dining room, eating waffles with raspberry jam and whipped cream, when Marcel approached them.  
“Hey bab—Louis,” Marcel staggered, almost using his pet name, but stopping himself. Glancing around at the other employees but no one seemed to have caught his blunder. “Can I see you in my office after breakfast?”  
“But I don’t have an appoint-“ Louis started.  
“Please,” Marcel added, interrupting him.  
Louis glanced at Delilah, then nodded.   
“Thanks,” Marcel nodded, standing in silence awkwardly for a moment before stepping away.   
“He looked a little anxious, don’t you think?” Louis said once Marcel’s white doctors robe had disappeared around the corner.   
“Hm, I don’t know.” Delilah said, piercing another piece of waffle on her fork. “Maybe he’s just nervous talking to his boyfriend.” The last word said in a theatrical whisper.   
“I will regret telling you that, won’t I?” Louis groaned.  
“You didn’t, found it out all by my lonesome,” Delilah winked. “You’re not too slick, I’ll tell you that.”  
“Fuck off.”   
“I love you too.” She smiled at him. “And hey, thanks for not making it weird.”  
“Make what weird?” Louis asked.  
“Me just spilling my entire backstory to you, I should save that for my sessions with Styles.”  
“Don’t be stupid, I’m your friend Lilah.” Louis put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “I want to listen to you, thanks for trusting me.”  
She gave him a small smile. “Thanks.”  
“I better go see what Marcel wants,” Louis rose from his seat, picking up his tray. “I’ll see you in the common room later?”   
“I’ll be there,” Delilah nodded. “A new episode of Friends locked and loaded. I’ll fight anyone taking tv time from us now when you’re finally allowed to use it again.”   
“You’re a star,” Louis kissed her atop the head when he passed. “See you then.”

The walk to Marcel’s office seemed to take ages, even though it was only down the hall. It was just one moment of weakness, they had not noticed, had they?  
He sighed deeply before raising his hand and knocking, Marcel opened almost immediately.  
“Louis, come in.” And Louis stepped passed him into the room, sitting down in the chair across from Marcel’s.   
“So, what did you want to, uhm, talk… about?” Louis asked.  
“I’m going to give you a chance to tell me first, I think.” Marcel leaned back in his chair, and when did he become so intimidating?  
“Marcel I—” Louis swallowed hard, he could feel the lump in his throat forming. “I’m so sorry.”   
“You have nothing to be sorry for, babe.” Marcel leaned his forearms on the desk, looking with kinder eyes at Louis. “I just want you to tell me.”  
Louis took a shaky breath, nodded, and then lifted his shirt sleeves. There were fresh marks there, all the way from his wrist to his elbow.  
“Can I?” Marcel asked, and when Louis nodded tearily, he walked around the desk and sat down next to Louis to examine his arm. “Are these just from your nails?”  
Louis hesitated before he shook his head. “There are two from, uhm,” he swallowed again, it felt as if his throat was closing up. “Two from cigarettes.   
“I want you to quit smoking, can you do that?” Marcel asked. “We can get you nicotine patches or gum if that’s the case, but can you do that?   
“I don’t know if—” Louis began but when he saw the pleading in Marcel’s eyes, he nodded. “Yeah, I can do that.” I am beginning to think that I could do anything for you.   
“Thank you.” Marcel kissed his forehead tenderly before walking to his drawers to get cleaning supplies for Louis’ wounds.  
“Want to talk about it?” He asked as he began putting soothing ointment on the burn marks.   
“Not really,” Louis sighed. “Not today, at least.”   
Marcel nodded. “My door is open for you anytime, you know that, right?”   
“I know, thank you.” Louis said, wincing when Marcel touched over a particularly sensitive spot.  
…  
“Louis is hurting again,” Marcel blurted out the moment the three of them sat down for dinner that night.  
“I reckoned,” Edward said at the same time as Harry said “Oh no.”   
“Will you book him in, Ed?” Marcel turned to the eldest brother. “I think he feels the most comfortable talking about that stuff with you.”   
Edward nodded. “I’ll do that first thing tomorrow. Did he tell you anything?”   
Marcel shook his head. “But he seems to talk to that small girl, what’s her name?”   
“Delilah,” Harry supplied. “She’s super sweet.”  
“Right,” Marcel nodded. “She talks with her a lot, so that’s good, I think.”   
“I mean go figure he’s hurting now, really.” Harry said. “I mean, it’s Christmas tomorrow, and today would be his sister’s birthday. It must be super hard.”  
Edward nodded. “Yes, we’ve talked that over a little bit, but I can see that he’s trying really hard to work on it. I just think he’s getting frustrated because he’s not getting better as fast as he’d wish.  
“Maybe we should take him outside soon—With authorized permission this time, “ Harry added when Marcel gave him a glare. “I don’t know, just make him think of something else now with the holidays coming and tinsel hanging in every corner of the home, can’t be too fun for him.  
“I’ll think about it.” Marcel said. “We need to be careful, we can’t expose ourselves.”   
“No I can’t say I really fancy going to prison,” Edward said, raising his wine glass.   
“Me neither, I’m too pretty for prison.” Harry said.   
“You’re hardly too pretty, stop flattering yourself.”   
“Shut up Ed, we look the same.”   
“You wish.”  
“You two are kindergarteners, I swear.” Marcel said, but he could not keep the smile from his face when looking across the table at his two bickering brothers, and then at the empty seat beside him.  
Soon, hopefully, that seat would be filled by one small, blue eyed boy.

Soon.


	17. Ch. 15

It was the middle of December and the holidays was just around the corner. All around the world children were preparing for a sleep filled with exciting dreams of Santa Claus in his sleigh, being kissed good night by their parents. And in turn parents were piling gifts under trees and hanging stockings on mantlepieces. The feeling of love and happiness was in the air.

But not here, not for Louis. 

He sat staring out at the snow that was falling thick outside of his window. His window was facing the patch of forest behind the home, and he was glad for that. Louis did not know if he could handle seeing all the happy faces on their way home from family dinners and last-minute Christmas shopping on the streets outside. He found himself wishing back to the burn of liquor to soothe the thoughts trying to drown him inside his mind, now even for the drag of a cigarette. To feel the smoke snake its way down his lungs and suffocate all the feeling that was there, that would be blissful.

But he had promised Marcel that he wouldn’t. 

He sat thinking about all the wish lists and letters to Santa that must have been written just a week ago or two, some of the patients in the home have even written some. They’d had been doing some Christmas crafting last week, or the rest of them had. Louis had been sitting staring out the window. Poor Delilah had tried countless times to cheer him up, but no one could. All he could think about was Alice, and his mum and dad. How much his little sister adored Christmas and everything that came with it. How they spent the week before baking their traditional seven kinds of cookies, and how they could never seem to agree on which cookie was the best and which to switch out. Then again, his dad would never let them switch out any of the recipes, because that was simply tradition. Louis sighed, he remembered how that had bugged him, how rigorously his family held onto traditions. He wished he hadn’t. He would do anything now to just bake those cookies with them one more time, watch the movie The Polar Express the night before the big day even if it bored the hell out of him. He would do it all a thousand times, because it was for them. But now what was the point? What was the point of baking gingerbread men or watching Christmas movies, when they weren’t there anymore?

He put his head in his arms where he sat on the bench by the big windows adorning the wall of the common area, and he closed his eyes. Maybe if he just stayed like this, it would be over soon. 

***  
“How is he doing?” Harry asked.  
The three siblings stood in the doorway to the common area, watching Louis sitting mournfully by the windowsill.   
“Not too great, I’d say.” Edward sighed. “His best friend mentioned that he always gets like this during this time of year, but not this bad.”  
“Probably because he can’t distract himself with drinks anymore,” Marcel nodded, leaning against the doorframe. “I bet the emotions crashes down extra hard.”  
Harry nodded. “I just wish we could help.”  
“Me too,” Marcel said sombrely.  
“Wait—Maybe we can.” Edward stood up straighter. “Marce, I need you to give Louis permission to leave the home for a bit, just a few hours.”  
Marcel glanced at the eldest brother. “What are you up to now, brother?”   
“I have a plan on how to maybe save Louis. I think. At least a little bit.”  
“Which is…?” Harry prodded.   
“Can’t say just yet,” Edward pondered for a moment. “Now go sign the papers Marce, Haz please get Niall’s phone number for me, will you?”   
“And what makes you think I—” Harry started.  
“You’re super polite to everyone and everyone likes you, of course you have his number saved.” Edward dismissed. “And if not, ask Liam. I heard the two of them are dating or something like that.”  
“They’re what—Edward!” Harry called after him, but Edward was already halfway down the corridor.  
“Get a move on, you two! Meet me in my office in ten” He shouted back.  
Harry and Marcel just stared at one another.   
“What is he up to, do you think?” Marcel asked.  
Harry shook his head. “No idea, you never know with him.”  
“Well should we…” Marcel nodded towards the corridor leading to the office.   
“Oh, yeah.” Harry agreed, and they walked as calmly as they could to Marcel’s office.   
***  
Niall groaned, plopping down on his bed and disturbing the neat piles of clean clothes that lay there in the progress.   
“Hey, get up.” Liam laughed, poking him in the stomach. “The boxes won’t pack themselves.”   
“Then you pack them,” Niall groaned, turning his face over on his pillow. “I’m going to take a nap.”   
“You are not,” Liam protested sitting down next to the blond boy, stroking his hair. “Can you believe we’re moving in together already?”   
“Mhm,” Niall said softly. “It’s mad, isn’t it?”   
“Do you think it’s… Too soon?” Liam asked after a while of silence.   
Niall sat up, facing his boyfriend. “I don’t.” He said. “Liam, I really like you. I wouldn’t be with you if I didn’t. And certainly not move into your apartment with you.”  
“But we’re going to share all the same space, kitchen, living room… Bed.” Liam glanced down at his hands in his lap.  
“Oh share a bed, how scandalous.” Niall said sarcastically, but changed when he caught sight of Liam’s puppy dog eyed look. “Oh come on Li, we are going to be just fine. You have my mother’s blessing and all.”  
“Well barely, I think she reckons it’s too soon.” Liam let out a small laugh.   
“It’s never too soon if you know it’s right.” Niall said, placing his hand over Liam’s. “We can do this, alright?”   
“You’re right.” Liam nodded, kissing Niall on the cheek. “Thank you.”   
“No worries,” Niall smiled. “Now please pack my clothes, I want to nap.”  
“Fine, you lazy arse.” Liam laughed, placing a fleece blanket over Niall and making sure he was coated before turning to the piles upon piles of clothing.   
He had barely packed two pairs of pants before Niall’s phone began ringing shrilly on the desktop.   
“Please can you answer it, or hang up.” Niall groaned. “Just make it stop.”   
Liam glanced over at the display, brows furrowing when he saw SRYA as the calling ID.  
He picked up the phone, pressing the green button before placing it at his ear.  
“Hello, Niall’s Phone.”   
“Liam?”   
“Harry?” Liam asked. “Why are you calling Niall?”   
“Why are you with him? Is it—I thought Ed was joking, are you two actually like-“   
“Dating, yes.” Liam said quietly. “Now what do you want Niall? Everything okay with Lou?”   
“Oh, Yeah. Well, kind of.” Harry said. “Edward has some plan to cheer him up, he seems to be going through it at the moment. And he begged me to bring Niall’s number, so I called just so I knew it was the right one I had saved in my phone.”  
“Edward has some plan, you say?” Liam said. “Well, Niall’s asleep at the moment so I can check in with him when he wakes.”   
“Hey, Li?”   
Liam took the phone from his ear and turned to Niall. “Yes, babe?”   
“Is it something to do with Lou?” He nodded towards the phone.  
Liam nodded. “Ed wanted to talk to you, apparently.”   
Niall yawned, but stretched out his hand from under the blankets for the phone, which Liam gave to him.  
“Hi Harry, yes it’s Niall.” He said, sitting up slowly in the bed. “Yeah I’ll wait.”   
“He’s bringing the phone over to Edward,” Niall explained to the clueless Liam.”   
After another minute, Harry seemed to have reached Edward, because Niall started talking again.  
“Hi Edward, what’s the matter?... Yes, I know he gets like that…. No, never really this bad… Yeah I talked to him yesterday.”   
Liam who didn’t want to intrude, continued to fold the clothes into the carboard moving boxes, but some parts of Niall’s call still filtered though his line of thought.   
“You want to take him to… Yeah no, I know where they are… Yes, I’ll send you the address. Do you need me there?... seven o’clock, I’ll be there. Thank you.” 

Liam looked up when Niall had hung up.   
“What was that about?” He asked tentatively.   
“Louis is in real bad shape mentally at the moment,” Niall explained. “And the triplets are getting worried, doesn’t really know what to do.”  
“So… What—” Liam asked.  
“They want to take him to his family’s grave, to try and give him some peace. I’m going to go meet them there, because I am not about to let him go through this alone.” 

“I’ll drive you,” Liam said instantly, He dropped the shirt he was holding and picked up his keys. “Let’s go. I can wait in the car when we get there to let you two have your moment alone, and then drive you back home.”  
“Liam I—Thank you,” Niall felt as if he was about to cry. How had he managed to meet such a kind hearted man?


	18. Ch. 16

The sun had set several hours ago, a light dust of snow lay on the asphalted pavement and more was slowly falling, almost unnoticeable in the darkness. Streetlights were illuminating the parking lot in patches, void of anyone besides one silver coloured Volvo parked at the far right. It was quiet.

And then another car entered the parking lot, skidding to as top two spaces away from the Volvo, a blond boy stepped out. The doors to the Volvo swung open too, and from the backseat emerged a petite boy with sandy brown hair and bundled up in a winter coat around four sizes too large for his frame. The blond boy stepped over quickly, engulfing the smaller of the two in a tight hug.  
“Hey Lou,” Niall said quietly, rubbing his back as he leaned away to get a look at the other. “You holding up?”   
Louis shrugged. “I mean I guess so, haven’t been here for ages though.”  
Niall continued to rub his back soothingly, Louis did not need to elaborate more. “I know you’re scared, but I will be here with you every step of the way, okay?”   
Louis hesitated, then nodded.

Out from the driver’s side stepped Harry, hair damp from melted snow and a somewhat nervous look upon his face. He was only clad in jeans and a hoodie in the below zero-degree weather and looking like he tried very hard not to shiver. 

Niall quirked a brow at the man. “Harry where’s your-“ He stopped when Harry glared at him, nodding towards Louis who now too faced the taller green eyed man.  
“Hazza you can take your coat I promise I’m not co—”   
“Louis you are keeping that coat on.” Harry said sternly. “Just knowing you’re warm and cozy is keeping me from freezing.”  
Louis sent him a ‘Yeah sure, stop bullshitting’ kind of look, but sighed and said nothing.

At that moment the opposite car doors opened and both Marcel and Edward got out, Marcel in a puffy black jacket and Edward in a knee long black coat.   
“Should we… Go, then?” Niall suggested carefully, watching Louis for a change in expression.  
He just nodded. “I think we should.” And then he started to slowly walk towards the arch reading Black Hill Cemetery, Harry’s coat slightly creating a trail in the snow behind him, Niall closely behind followed by the triplets who kept their distance.   
Louis had not visited the cemetery for well over a year, but e could still find their spot, it was as if he was walking on auto pilot. When he was barely two meters away, his step faltered. Niall came up next to him, hand gripping his.   
“It’s okay,” he said. “I am right here with you.”   
Louis swallowed hard, but nodded. Words seemed to fail him. Thoughts racing a million miles a minute.   
“Lets take a step, on three?” Niall suggested.   
“Will you—”   
“I will take a step with you, of course babe.”   
Louis nodded again, taking a deep breath, watching the cloud of mist that exited his mouth, following it upwards until it disappeared.   
“Okay,” he said after a moment. “Ready.”   
“Okay,” Niall said quietly. “On three, one, two, three.”   
They both took a step forward, Louis’ hand gripping Niall’s tightly.  
“Ready for another one?”   
Louis nodded, determined.   
“One, two, three,” They took another step, now barely a metre away from the headstone.  
“One last step Lou, I know you can do it.” Niall encouraged.

Louis took another step, breathing harshly as the gold encrypted smooth stone came into focus.  
Here lies Eliza and George Tomlinson, and their daughter Alice.   
May they rest in peace, gone but never will they be forgotten.

And below that were their birth- and death dates, all scribbled in a thin writing, drawn in with gold. Alice’s birthdate being only fourteen years ago stabbed him in the heart. She had so much life ahead of her.   
“I brought a grave candle,” came Niall’s voice quietly from behind him. “Do you want to light it?”   
Louis nodded shakily; lips clamped shut. If he spoke, he felt as if he would fall apart, and no one would be able to piece him together, not even Niall.   
Niall bent down beside the grave, dusting a bit of the snow away with his hand before placing the candle down, lighting it with a lighter and then putting the lid on.  
“Now they have some light,” Niall said softly as he stood back up. “Must be cozy.”   
“I—I brought some—” Louis staggered out, words not piecing themselves together.   
Instead, he bent down, picking a small piece of mistletoe and a small Christmas tree ornament from the pocket of Harry’s jacket, and placing it beside the candle.  
“It’s not much,” his voice was now barely a whisper. “It’s from when we did some Christmas crafting at the home but—”   
“Alice would have loved it,” Niall nodded. “I know, I’m sure she would have. Bet she’s watching you now, all giddy because she can do some Christmas crafting herself now.”   
A small smile found its way upon Louis’ lips. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”  
He stood up, shoulder to shoulder with Niall they stood in silence, watching the flicker of the candle cast shadows on the headstone.  
“How are you feeling?” Niall asked after a moments silence.   
Louis pondered for a moment before turning to his best friend. “At peace,” he said finally. “I’m feeling at peace.”  
“I’m glad,” Niall smiled warmly at him. “Really glad. Must feel a little liberating.”   
Louis nodded. “Coming here reminded me of something. Something I wish I’d known months ago.”  
“And what’s that?”   
“That they’re never really gone, as long as I remember them, they’re still here with me. But me moving on from what happened is not the same thing as me forgetting about them, I can continue to live and move on with my life. They would’ve wanted me to.”

“I’m very happy you’ve come to that conclusion.” Niall slung and arm around Louis’ shoulder, hugging him to his side. “They’ll be here with you forever, you might not be able to see them, but they’ll be there.” 

Louis reached out, putting a gloved hand at the top of the headstone, stroking it gently. “Merry Christmas mum and dad,” He whispered so that only he would be able to hear. “And you too, little sis. I’ll be back soon, I promise.”   
As they walked back along the pathway they met up with the three brothers, all looking apprehensive. Louis sent them a reassuring smile and stopped when they got close enough.  
“You okay?” Edward asked, trying to gauge his boyfriend’s mood.   
Louis nodded, stretching his arms out. “Hug?”   
The three triplets looked over at each other for a split second before surrounding the smaller boy and enveloping him in a big hug. Niall squeezed past them, walking back over to Liam’s car to give the four some alone time.  
“Can we invite Lara for Christmas eve dinner tomorrow?” Louis asked as they began walking back towards their own car.  
“I’m afraid she’ll be busy fixing her own Christmas eve dinner at the shelter, love.” Marcel said apologetically. “But I’ll be sure to ask if she could at least swing by,” he hurried out when he caught sight of Louis’ frown.  
He shone up. “Yes please, I wanted to thank her.”  
“Thank her for what, baby?” Harry asked.  
“For introducing me to three people that are making me feel that staying alive and growing old wouldn’t be too bad after all, not with them around at least.”  
And if a tear or two slipped down their cheeks and into their scarfs, Harry, Edward, and Marcel would never tell.


	19. Ch. 17

***

"Hey, Lou." Harry's face shone up as the small boy walked through the entrance to the common room the next morning, although watching the boy apprehensively. The common room was empty, the rest of the home wouldn't stir awake for another hour or so. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm feeling... Okay." Louis gave him a small smile, the red Santa hat clutched tightly in his hands. "I think yesterday helped, a lot."

"I'm glad," Harry stood up from where he had been folding napkins for that day's Christmas eve dinner, and walked over to him, putting a hand gently to his cheek and tucking some stray hairs behind his ear. "I was afraid it'd be too much for you—Which would be fine too, it's just I—"

"Hazza," Louis interrupted, grasping the taller man by the shoulders. "Please calm down, I'm okay, and that's all thanks to you. All of you." He rose to the tips of his toes, placing a soft kiss on the man's cheek. "I promise you."

Harry gave a shaky nod. "I just want you to feel happy, genuinely. And for yourself, not for anyone else. Not for me, or Marcel, or Edward."

"I know." Louis' hand slid down Harry's arm, tracing the curve of his bicep before circling his hand and tangling their fingers together. "Thank you."

"Want to sit down for some tea?" Harry asked." It's still early."

"Don't you have to fold napkins?" Louis glanced over Harry's shoulder where the large pile lay abandoned.

"Yes," Harry said, tugging Louis towards the dining room. "But I'd much rather sit and talk to you."

Louis laughed, shoving him in the side playfully. "You are the world's biggest sap, you know that."

"Your sap, my darling." Harry winked, putting on the kettle and sifting through the box of teabags. "Are we feeling earl grey, or maybe an English breakfast?"

"Do you have more Yorkshire?" Louis asked, jumping up to sit on the nearest table, dangling his wool socked feet.

"You mean the tea that you are absolutely gulping down by the litre every day? I'm afraid we're out, or we are officially however."

"What do you mean, officially?" Louis quirked a brow.

Harry looked back at him with a mischevious smile dancing on his lips. "Don't tell Marce, he will slaughter me."

And with that he bent down and unlocked the cabinet with one of the keys hanging from his belt, opening it and taking out a brand-new box of Yorkshire tea. "Marcel keeps his secret stash here. He's become a fan ever since you asked if we could buy it."

"But... Won't he notice that someone's opened the box?" Louis asked.

"Eh," Harry shrugged. "I'll just blame Edward."

***

"So," Harry said when they sat back down in the sofa in the common room. "I have some good news, and some potentially bad news."

"What do you mean, potentially bad?" Louis asked. "What does that mean?"  
"Which ones do you want to hear first?" Harry asked, ignoring him.

"The good news," Louis said. "I want the good first."

"Okay so good news, Lara is coming for Christmas dinner tonight," Harry said. "She can't stay too long, but promised to at least stop by for dessert."

"That's great," Louis smiled. "Thank you for asking her for me."

"Absolutely no problem, love." Harry smiled. "All my pleasure."

"And how about the bad news? Or potentially bad?"

"Well," Harry said, taking an unnecessarily long sip of his tea. "I don't really know where to start."

"You're making me nervous..." Louis watched him apprehensively.

"Okay, so here's the deal. The past few weeks you've gotten a lot better. You're taking your antidepressants as you should, you're cooperating with Edward in your sessions, you're socializing well with other patients... Well, with Delilah, at least. And overall, we fell as if you've done a lot of improvements. There have been some minor step backs, sure."

Unintentionally both of them glanced in the direction of the code locked storages where they both knew the hand sanitizer were.

"But you are overall making steps forwards." Harry continued. "So after consulting with Marcel, and some other doctors, we have reached the decision that you can be out on a sort of trial period first thing in the new year."

Louis felt his heart rate pick up, so loud he could almost feel his chest moving with each thump. "Wait—What do you mean with a trial period? I- Don't want to go, I don't have anywhere to go." He said the last part in a whisper. Mr. Anderson had most likely already sanitized and sold his apartment.

"That's what we were thinking too," Harry nodded. "And we came up with a suggestion, you have every right to say no Lou if you don't feel comfortable. You don't need to go if you don't want to." He hurried out, almost tripping over his own words.

Louis gaped at him. "You don't mean..."

"Come live with us." Harry said, somewhat uncertainly, gauging Louis' reaction. "It would be for roughly a month. You'd move in the first week of the new year and move back here by Valentine's day. And if you at any point feel uncomfortable, we can book you a hotel."

"You are not paying for me to stay at a hotel for a month, are you crazy?" Louis put his cup down on the coffee table.

"So does that mean...?"

"Yes," Louis said. "I want to do the trial period, I want to live with you."

Harry shone up like a kid on Christmas at that, quickly glancing around the room for spying eyes, before leaning over and giving Louis a quick kiss, short but sweet.

"I love y—" Harry cleared his throat. "I love that you said that." He smiled. "I need to tell the others, Marcel will get everything in order, you don't have to lift a finger." Harry stood up.

"And Lou?"

"Hm?" Louis looked up at him.

"You would look lovely in that Sant hat," Harry nodded to the red fabric still clutched in one of Louis' hands. "Red really suits you."

He then left the room, presumably for Marcel's office.

Lou took a sip of his borderline cold tea, a small smile at the corner of his lips, He stroked the satin fabric gently, slowly lifting it up and situating it atop his head. He watched his reflection in the black screen of the television, and maybe Harry was right. About a lot of things.

***

"I knew he would say yes."

"Shut your pretentious arse Ed, you knew nothing." Harry shot back, pushing his brother's feet of the break room table as he walked past.

Edward only smirked at him, putting them back up when Harry was past, ankle crossed over the other.

"I'm just glad he agreed." Marcel said, warming his hands on his coffee cup. "You told him we could book him a hotel too?"

"I did," Harry nodded. "He seemed very against the idea. I reckon he likes us."

Edward snorted. "We are his boyfriends, I'm pretty sure that's an indicator."

"Yeah," Harry shrugged. "Maybe you're right."

"I'm always right." Edward laughed, shielding his face when Harry shucked the satsumas at him that he was about to peel.

"Anyway," Marcel said loudly to stop the impending food fight. "I have some forms to fill out, put him into the on-leave program, and look over his medicine. Edward you should talk over the move with him on your meeting this afternoon if you can."

"I'll probably advise him to talk to Delilah too," Harry said. "I can't help but notice how close they've gotten and I think it might be really hard for her if he just up and leaves."

"Good idea," Marcel nodded. "And that reminds me, I'll have to check over her medicine too, she seems like maybe there needs to be some sort of a change."

"I can't believe he'll be staying with us." Edward sighed, "I wonder how that's going to go."

"I was thinking about that too," Harry nodded. "I mean, we should fix the guest bedroom for him, obviously. But I mean—What if he wants to sleep with us? I mean in our bed. "He added when Edward almost choked on his coffee. "Should we let him? He is still our patient after all, we need to stay professional."

"That is a good point," Marcel leaned back in his chair, crossing his ankle over his knee. "I'm not too sure, I'm guessing we'd have to deny him but at the same time he's in such an emotionally vulnerable place right now, it's tricky to deal with."

"Guess we'll just have to cross that bridge when we come to it, right?" Edward shrugged. "I mean, he could still change his mind and ask for a hotel room."

"You are such a Debby downer sometimes, Ed." Harry said, pushing his feet down to the floor once again. "You know that, right?"

"I'd like to look at it like more of a realist." Edward protested. "But whatever makes you happy, brother dear."

Marcel sighed exasperatedly at both his siblings, standing up and loudly placing his cup in the dishwasher before walking out of the break room.

"If we don't shut up soon, I reckon he'll leave us for the hotel room." Harry said.

Edward snorted. "I wouldn't be surprised.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More of a filles/build-up, maybe. But I am so excited for what's to come.
> 
> What do you think, will the triplets let Lou sleep in their bed, or will they deny him to keep it somewhat professional? Will the freshly sown seed that is their relationship bloom with this new drastic decision that they have just made, or will it wither and die? Idk you tell me:)


	20. Ch. 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus can't believe 2020 is over tomorrow... My god this year has felt like a whole ass decade. Anyway, Happy Reading!:)

"I'm in the mood to do something chaotic for tonight," Delilah said suddenly. They where laid on top of Louis' bed, staring at the ceiling. "Chaotic, yet festive."

Louis snorted. "Like what?"

"I don't know," Delilah shrugged. "Like dye my hair red, maybe."

Louis rose up so that he was leaning on his elbows and looked down at her. "Dye your hair red?"

"Mhm."

"Lilah first of all, how in the hell are you going to do that? Your hair's the same colour as coal and I might not be a hair stylist but I think that's too dark." Delilah waved dismissively at him. "And second of all, where the hell are you supposed to get colour like that from?"

"That's when you come in, flower." Delilah smiled mischievously up at him.

"Me?"

"Yes you, idiot." She sat up. "You have all the Styles' around your tiny pinky, you could just ask them to—"

"I am not asking them that." Louis interrupted.

"Why not? Come on," Delilah urged. "Aren't you in the mood for something crazy? Nothing barely happens around here, anyway."

"No, Lilah. I don't want to ask them that, seriously. They're probably going to say no either way."

"You don't know that!" Delilah interjected. "And still, I'm antsy with withdrawal, wouldn't you want to help your friend feel better." She shuffled closer to him on the bed, smiling and putting her arm over his shoulder.

"You play so dirty, I swear to god." Louis groaned. "You know I can't say no when you put it like that."

Delilah kissed his cheek gleefully. "I can even let you help me dye it."

Louis rolled his eyes. "I'll go ask Marcel, but I can't promise to have it to you for tonight's dinner though, it's already noon and I doubt stores will be open for much longer."

"As long as you've tried I'm happy as can be," Delilah smiled sweetly and waved a sighing Louis out of his room to find the youngest of the three brothers.

As he walked down the hall, he surveyed all the tinsel hanging along the walls, the small little Santa Clauses that had been put on every available surface. Louis squeezed his hands into fists and swallowed hard. Being at the graveyard last night may have brought him some peace, but the steady reminder that his sister would not get to decorate again still made his heart ache. Well, at least she wouldn't here on this earth. But, he thought. Niall was right, they will always be with him no matter what he did. And feeling sorry for himself would not help him move on, he needed to face what had happened straight on, however difficult that may be. He needed to keep living, not only for himself, but for them. They were robbed of that chance, so he would have to do that for them, whether he liked it or not. And besides, Alice would have loved it if he carried her love for Christmas onwards. Her love for giving, not receiving. Her love for spreading joy and warmth, and what he had realised that night at the graveyard was that he was prepared to do anything for her. Even that.

As if his legs had steered him on autopilot, he had reached the door that read 'Marcel Styles, Doctor.' He swallowed again, and then knocked.

***

Marcel felt as if he was ten years old again, doing something that he shouldn't as he signed the papers. It felt dirty, somehow. As if letting Louis out on this trial period was for his own sake rather than Louis' and that what he was doing was incredibly selfish. He had not worked out yet if that was the case, he did not want to think about it. Content with telling himself that this was in Louis' best interest. Just as his ballpoint pen left the paper with his scribbled signature, a knock on his door interrupted his troubled mind.

"Yes?" He said loudly, stacking the papers together and putting them in Louis' file as the door opened. He glanced up.

"Uhm, Marcel? Am I disturbing you?"

"No," Marcel said a little to hastily, subconsciously wiping his hands on his pantleg. "I mean—Of course not, Louis. Please, come in."

Louis walked into the room, closing the door behind him before walking over to sit in one of the chairs opposite Marcel.

"What's wrong, love?" Marcel asked, a little concerned. "You seem anxious."

"I'm not- Well not really." Louis tucked his feet under him in the armchair to be more comfortable, Marcel marvelled over how small he was. "It's stupid, really. But Delilah asked me if I could ask you to... Buy some red hair dye for her."

"I see," Marcel leaned back in his chair. "And why didn't she ask me herself, hm? Might that have anything to do with something you've told her?" His tone wasn't harsh, but somewhat stiff.

"To my defence she figured out our relationship all by herself," Louis said. "I didn't mean for that to happen."

"I know love, but maybe you should've told us about her knowing? I mean, it's of high importance to keep this between us. Especially now when you're about to come live with us."

Louis nodded. "I understand, I'm sorry. But you know now?" He added a little cheekily, Marcel snorted.

"Yes now we know," he leaned forward, placing his arms on the desk

"I can ask around amongst the nurses if anyone could swing by the grocery store before closing, but I won't promise anything."

Louis gave him a small smile. "Thanks." He turned his gaze down to his hands lying in his lap.

"Hey, Lou," Marcel said softly. "Come here."

Without hesitating Louis stood up, rounding the desk and placing himself in Marcel's lap. Marcel placed his arm around the boy, resting his cheek atop his head.

"How are you feeling, hm?"

"I'm doing okay," Louis said honestly. "Yesterday was just so draining, I feel like my mind is sedated, almost. But I'll be fine, I'm exited about staying with you guys."

"Yeah?" Marcel smiled at that. "We're very excited too."

"How are you feeling about the dinner tonight?" Marcel asked. "You don't have to come if you don't want to, of course."

"No I want to." Louis leaned back to be able to meet Marcel's eyes. "Lara is coming, I want to be there."

"Okay love," Marcel stroked his back comfortingly as he laid his head back against his chest. "Okay."

And that Marcel only got half of his planned work done that afternoon because he had a lapful of Louis, he didn't mind.

***

That night was the long-awaited Christmas Eve dinner. Liam had been to the local grocery store during the day and bought a pack of red hair dye, making Delilah squeal with excitement as he had tossed it over to her after her and Louis came in from their usual hangout spot in the courtyard. Louis and Delilah had then proceeded to dye her hair, making her bathroom look like something out of a horror movie in the process. But after a lot of scrubbing of the tiled walls and floor while the colour did its thing, Delilah had striking dark red hair instead of her usual black. She had kissed Louis' cheek in thanks, smiling at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Louis had thought back on what he had decided earlier that day, spread the same warmth and joy to others as Alice had done.

As the two walked into the dining hall, fingers intertwined, they gasped. The room looked nothing like it had done that morning. A few of the smaller tables had been pushed together to one and a huge red tablecloth was covering them, with a grey table runner going down the middle. Candles were standing in cute holders on top of the grey runner, flickering softly. Harry's napkin creations were displayed at each set of plates, with spruce garlands running down the middle as well, snaking in between the candles.

"What do you think?" Harry asked, standing smiling by the entrance.

"It's gorgeous." Delilah said, looking all around the room. "I barely recognise it."

"Your hair's gorgeous too," Harry added, nodding towards the red hair that she had braided into two small Dutch braids.

"Oh, thanks," she smiled up at him. "Lou here helped."

"I could've guessed." Harry nodded, giving Louis a knowing smile. "I rarely see the two of you separated."

"Is Lara here yet?" Louis asked, glancing around the room for the small woman.

"Not yet, I'm afraid." Harry shook his head. "But she said she'd be here no later than eight, so I'm sure she'll show up soon. Want to take a seat? We're about to begin."

They sat down, Louis close to the end of the table with Delilah to his left, Edward across from him, and Harry next to Edward. Marcel was sat on the other side of Delilah with a two girls that Louis had not seen before to his left, new patients, he presumed. The home did not have too many patients at the moment, it being Christmas a few had gone home on a trial period over Christmas. As the night went on, they ate their Christmas buffet consisting of many delicious delicacies such as cold smoked salmon, meatballs, potatoes, honey glazed ham, and homemade bread.

Just as Louis stretched to take another piece of bread, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked around, and dropped the piece in his hand when he saw the petite older woman standing there. 

"Lara!" He almost threw himself into her arms. She caught him, chuckling warmly against his ear as they hugged, rubbing his back.

"Hello, my love." She said, smiling when they separating. "I see you're doing a lot better."

Louis nodded. "I am. And that 's all thanks to you."

"Oh, don't be silly now," she waved her hand dismissively. "I only nudged you in the right direction, you did the rest all on your own."

Louis gestured to the empty chair to his right for her to sit down. "But without you I might've been dead by now," he said. And it seemed as if the fact hit him for real fist now, saying it out loud. "Without you making me go here, I might have starved to death on a park bench or under a bridge, been beat up by a street gang or who knows what else."

Lara only smiled softly at him. "I'm very glad you decided to listen. These three young men can be a right pain in my ass but I still believe them to do great things, so I felt that I could trust them with helping you."

"We appreciate that, Lara." Edward chimed in, taking a sip of his drink. "Remember you can always come to us for help should you need it."

"Thank you, Edward." Lara smiled, plating some food for herself. "I will remember that. It was very nice of you to invite me to your dinner, everything looks delicious."

"Thank you," Edward said gracefully. "Harry have been slaving away in the kitchen since early morning, he used to be a baker so he doesn't mind."

"Well done then, Harry." Lara nodded towards the middle triplet, who smiled back at her in thanks.

"And inviting you here was actually all Louis' idea." Marcel chimed in. "A great idea, we should do this more often."

"Really?" Lara turned to Louis. "That's very kind of you." And Louis could see some sort of hidden meaning behind those eyes.

Louis gave her a small smile and a nod back.

They continued to eat after that, Lara complimenting Delilah's hair making the girl beam, and then telling Harry he needed a haircut because "how are you going to be able to do your duties if your hair's in your eyes all the time?" Louis laughed when Edward suggested they shave his head while he was asleep, Harry pouting. Louis glanced over to him, finding himself wanting to kiss that pout off of his lips, sit in his lap and feed him strawberries from the dessert that they had just put out on the table. He found himself wanting to wake up next to him, to all of them. To see them all with bleary eyes and soft bedheads, to flush the toilet while they were showering and laugh when they screeched because the water had suddenly turned icy cold. He longed to tease them to the brink of madness and then kiss it better, to have lazy movienights and fall asleep with them on the couch, to take walks on rainy days and smell the damp earth in the air. He longed for everything, with them.

"Lou?"

"Hm?" He looked up to see Delilah watching him.

"I was wondering if you wanted to make a cup of tea with me and watch a movie?"

"Oh, sure." Louis said. "You go pick a movie, I'll be right there,"

When Delilah had left, he turned to the triplets. "Hey, can I have a word with you? In private?"

The three nodded, instantly standing up and following him to a secluded corner of the dining room where they normally would get their food, behind a wall leading to the kitchen.

"What's up?" Harry asked as soon as they had stopped.

"I just wanted to tell you..." Louis felt his heart hammer in his throat. What did he want to tell them? How much they had started to mean to him? How he thought of them every waking moment? How he believed he might be in love with them?"

"Tell us what, baby?" Edward asked.

"That—I'm very excited to come live with you. I think it'll be good for me, and for us."

"We are too, Lou." Harry smiled softly. "Marcel finished the paperwork today, and come January fifth, you can live with us for a while."

Louis nodded, swallowed. It felt as if something had awoken in the pit of his stomach, something that had not been awake for a long, long time.

"Good, I can't wait." Louis said.

Say it. A voice whispered in the back of his mind. Don't be scared, say it. Louis shook his head as if that would clear it. Say that you are in love with them.

"Everything alright?" Edward asked, looking somewhat concerned now.

"Yes," Louis said firmly, taking a deep breath. "I am better than ever. What I wanted to ask you was, if I could get a hug?"

It was a lame excuse, but the triplets didn't seem to mind, enveloping him in a hug, Harry even sneaking in a quick kiss to Louis' lips when they separated. Louis let it slide as they stood behind the divider away from any spying eyes, or so they thought.

***

That night Louis entered his room, yawning. He had watched some cheesy Netflix Christmas movie that Delilah had picked out. When he had whined about it, she had decidedly said that "If you're not here to chose the movie you can't complain."

He slumped down on top of his covers; cheek pressed against the mattress. With his eyes on his nightstand, he noticed something lying on it, beneath a heap of papers. He sat up, leaning over and grabbed the leather journal that Marcel had given him what felt like forever ago. Louis opened it, stroking the page where he had accidentally written the love confession to the triplets fondly, skimming over the words.

Edward has the most captivating eyes, and when he smiles, I feel like specs of light come to life inside of me.

Marcel makes me feel so safe when he's around. He makes me feel like I could tell him anything.

Harry is the funniest, most genuine person I've met. But I don't think that man has the capability to be mad at anyone, he is just too kind.

He still felt the same today, if not more fiercely than he had done back then. He let out a small laugh at the last line on the page. Yeah, Harry still smelled fucking amazing.

He turned to the next empty page and reached for his pen. Without thinking he began sketching, the scratchy sound of his pen against the paper lulled him into some sort of trance, not thinking but only doing. He thought of how the triplets' home would look like, did they live in a house, or a flat? And what would it smell like? The three men all smelled very differently. Marcel of vanilla and sandalwood, Harry as something floral like chamomile or jasmine, and Edward as something muskier, like tobacco and cacao. Louis found it hard to explain, but he felt some sort of urge, a tug at the pit of his stomach, to be swept in that scent. To let it take him over and fill him from the inside out. He wondered what their sheets would feel like. Would they be soft cotton, or maybe silk? He shook his head.

He was thinking about their bed. Louis almost smacked himself. He had known the men for barely a few months, and he was still their patient. He could not be thinking about spending the night in the same bed as them, lying next to them, being touched by them—

Louis dropped his pen, the sound of it clanking against the floor brought him back to reality. He glanced down at the page, and when he saw what he had drawn, he slammed the book shut and flung it across the room, making it hit the opposite wall. He crawled underneath his covers and closed his eyes, but the image still burned behind his eyelids. The three pairs of eyes, all slightly different yet similar was glaring back at him.

I am going mad, he thought as he willed sleep to come and take him from his guilty conscious.

Mad with feelings, that voice in his head answered. Feelings for them that you so badly want answered. Question is, do they feel as you do?

That was the question, and Louis did not want to admit it, but he was scared to find out the answer.

***


	21. Ch. 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for my long absence, life and school and a global pandemic is hard man:( Anyway, enjoy!

New years flew by fast. There were not much of a celebration inside the home, due to patients potentially suffering from PTSD, the loud bangs from the fireworks was enough. For Louis, however, New Year's Eve only meant one thing: He was one day closer to moving in with the triplets.

Not permanently. The voice in his head reminded him stubbornly as he sat sketching mindlessly in his journal. Only for the four weeks.

Louis sighed, tilting his head and examining his work. This time he had sketched hands, Harry's hands in particular. He had tried to convince himself that it was for the sole purpose of practicing drawing hands which was the hardest body part to draw but somehow, he didn't believe himself. He had drawn a lot the past few days, a hobby he'd had when he still lived with his family, but which had since been forgotten and burrowed below the sea of sadness and chaos that had now plagued him for years. But the sea had began to draw back somewhat, showing the bit of shore that Louis had forgotten lay underneath. The sea had dragged some of it with it; friends he had lost touch with, school and work he had neglected, everything that before had some value to it, some happiness. But some still remained behind; he still had Niall, and now he had a lot of other people as well. He had Delilah, Lara, the triplets, Liam... Louis smiled to himself as he tried fixing the tip of Harry's— No the hand's thumb, it looked to thin. Louis could almost see the fictional shore before him. How there seemed to be more sand there than before, and all the while the sea was drawing back ever so slightly.

As he closed the journal, his door opened and in the doorway stood a small, redheaded girl, glaring at him.

"What have I done now?" Louis asked somewhat exasperatedly as Delilah stomped into his room without invitation.

"When did you plan to tell me?" She said, crossing her arms and standing in front of him on the bed.

Louis looked up at her, confused. "Tell you what?"

"Don't act like you know nothing, Louis. Come on."

"I don't!" Louis defended himself. "I have no clue what you're on about, honest."

"Fine," Delilah grumbled, sitting down on the bed next to him, staring forward and refusing to look at him. "When did you plan to tell me that you got trial leave? And that you were going to live with the Styles'?"

"What- I—How did you know that?" Louis was shocked, he had planned to tell her, but he hadn't yet, had he?

"Anna told me," Delilah pouted.

Louis head was starting to hurt with all this new information. "Who's Anna, and how in the hell does she know?"

"She's the new girl, came in like a few days before Christmas or something like that," Delilah sniffled. "I don't want you to leave."

The girl he had seen sitting next to Marcel on Christmas Eve dinner. Far enough up the table to possibly see around the wall and into their corner.

"I'm sorry Lilah, I did plan to tell you." Louis put what he hoped was a comforting hand on her shoulder. He was torn between comforting his friend and finding out more, but he had to know.

"But how did this Anna know I was getting trial leave? And how did she know I was going to live with Harry, Edward and Marcel?"

Delilah shrugged her shoulders, finally turning to him. "She said that she had overheard you, but I don't know when. She told me when you had gone back to your room after we watched a movie, Christmas eve."

Louis froze. So someone else had seen them in the corner of the dining area, and cared enough to lay it to memory and then told others. And if this girl had told Delilah, who she didn't know, who else had she told? And what would this mean?

***

"I really don't want to go to work today," Harry groaned as light flooded the bedroom. "Marcel for the love of everything holy, draw our curtains again."

Marcel looked back at him, clad in t-shirt and boxer shorts, confused. "But you love to go to work, are you sick or something, what's going on?"

"I don't know," Harry's voice was muffled due to his face being pressed into the pillow. "This whole 'secrets' thing is making me mad, I think."

"What's up?" Edward entered from their ensuite bathroom, already in his baby blue button up and black slacks. "Hazzabear's sick?"

"No," Marcel shook his head. "Just with too much of a good conscience, I reckon."

"Which is never bad in our line of work," Harry pointed out, sprawled out on their king size mattress. "But I just hate keeping secrets. We've done this for what, four months?"

"But there will be a lot less secret keeping tomorrow, when he comes to live with us." Edward pointed out. "I have already looked over the schedules and informed the other staff that we're going down in hours for a month, said we had to take some time off. Coming tomorrow we work twice a week, office hours."

"I love how we call working two days a week 'time off'" Marcel snorted. "We really are workaholics, aren't we?"

"I'd like to see it as passionate," Harry chimed in, sitting up. "I guess I can manage one more day." He stood up and padded over to their shared walk-in closet.

"I knew we'd persuade him," Edward teased, spraying his Tobacco vanille perfume lightly on his neck and collar.

"You didn't." Harry argued, peeking his head out of the closet, night shirt taken off and a white silk button up hanging off of his frame loosely, he'd change to work clothes when they got there. "Lou did."

"I'm going to tell myself I did, would make me lose hope in my skills as a therapist otherwise." Edward laughed at his own statement before he was out the door, shouting for them to hurry up.

Marcel rolled his eyes, checking his reflection in the mirror once more before following after the eldest brother.

Harry sighed, looking himself over in the floor-to-ceiling mirror and combing his fingers through his hair. Louis were going to come live with them tomorrow. Tomorrow when they left work there would be another person in the otherwise vacant seat in the back of their car. Harry almost did not want to admit it, even to himself, but he was scared. What if this would be the thing that fucked everything up. Their relationship, if one could even call it that, had gone smoothly so far, or at least somewhat. But they had not really been too close, since it had been at the home. What if Louis did not like who they were outside the rehab centre? What if he liked their professional personas but not their causal ones? Or the worse alternative, what if he did not like them at all?

Harry closed his eyes to collect his thoughts that seemed to had scattered all around in the brief moments he had been alone in their bedroom, a deep breath. He would just have to find out the hard way.


	22. Ch. 20

"Do you have everything, love?" Harry tried to conceal his giddy smile as he watched his boyfriend pace back and forth in his room.

"I- I think so," Louis swallowed as he came to a stop in the middle of the room, gazing around. "I mean, I didn't have too much to begin with. So I basically only have some toiletries and stuff." And the journal full of confessions was left unsaid.

"Great, we'll be off then." Harry nodded, guiding Louis out of the room with a careful hand at the base of his spine, too low to be professional, but Harry could not help himself. They were taking him home today.

They met Marcel and Edward at the door, both bundled up in coats and scarf to ward off the extra crisp chill that had fallen over the city this grey January afternoon.

"All good?" Marcel asked quietly, looking Louis up and down as if to look after some sign of regret or hesitation, he found none.

"All good," Louis answered, giving the man a tiny smile.

With a wave to Liam, who smiled knowingly at the quartet, they left the home for the triplets' black Toyota parked in the staff car park outside. Edward got into the driver's seat, Harry in the passenger and Marcel in the back next to Louis.

"So," Louis finally said when the car had started to roll out onto the streets in the afternoon rush hour. "I have something to tell you guys."

"What is it, babes?" Edward asked, finding eye contact with Louis through the rear view mirror.

"Delilah told me that some girl overheard us on Christmas dinner, that I'd move in with you during my leave..." Louis fiddled nervously with the hem of his jacket. "And it makes me kinda uneasy. I don't want anyone to find out—I don't want you guys to get in trouble because of me."

Marcel stiffened somewhat next to him, but otherwise there was no visible reaction among the three men, Louis looked between them with a scrunched brow. "Did you not hear me?"

"We heard you, love." Harry turned around in his seat to look back at Louis. "But there's not much we can do about that, if we talk to her about it, it will be suspicious. So we'll just have to cross that bridge when we come to it."

"You mean... We wait for it to blow up in out faces and fuck us over?" Louis crossed his arms. "Are you insane?"

"Hey, language." Marcel chided. "And I think Haz has a point, we'll wait to se if something even comes from it. It's not a problem as of now."

Louis could not believe this. Was he overreacting or were the triplets just absolute idiots?

"Forget about it for now, baby." Marcel tried, placing a hand gently on the younger boy's thigh. "Focus on here and now, and moving in with us instead, yeah?"

Louis looked at the man for a moment, feeling himself fall for those kind eyes all over again. "Okay," he said. "I'll try."

***

Louis did not know what he had expected the triplet's home to look like. But he was pleasantly surprised as they entered the roomy apartment. They had driven into one of the nicer areas of the city, parked in a huge underground garage and taking the lift up to one of the higher floors.

As the four of them entered, Harry took Louis' small duffle from him and placed it on the floor by the shoe shelf.

"A tour, perhaps?" He asked, making a mock bow and gesturing towards the open living room at the end of the hall.

Louis pressed his lips to stop the laugh to escape as he said in a mock posh accent, "why that would be absolutely charming, good sir."

Louis followed behind the middle triplet into the open plan living room, connecting into a roomy kitchen with marble counters and a kitchen island. Louis was almost surprised over how clean the place was, not as much as a magazine cluttering the wooden dining table to the left of the kitchen opening. And to top it all off, all the furniture were matching, dark wood and muted moss green, tied in with a pinch of navy blue here and there. He was in love.

"Over here," Harry said as he lead Louis down the hallway. "Is our bedroom, and right across here," He pointed towards the with door opposite the one they stood by. "Is your room, the door next to yours is the bathroom. We do have a bathroom connected to our bedroom, and you can of course use that if you wish."

"I recommend ours," Edward piped in, popping up around the corner and smiling cheekily as he approached them. "The water pressure in our shower is a godsend." He hooked his chin over Harry's shoulder, smiling still. "And our is bigger, you know... We need room for more people, with the three of us."

Louis felt his face grow hot instantly, eyes wide he excused himself into the room Harry had pointed to as his, and closed the door tight behind him. He could still hear the triplets from the other side of the wood, however.

"Edward!" Harry's voice was somewhat muted but still distinguishable. "You are going to scare him away."

"You can't handle the heat, back away from the fire." Louis could hear the smirk in Edward's voice, he knew that he had made him flustered, the bastard.

"Still," he heard Harry groan out in the hallway. "Be careful with what you say."

"I don't know, brother." Edward hummed. "Something tells me he finds that kind of stuff... exciting, in both ways you think, I'd imagine."

Louis' eyes widened as he stepped away from the door, he needed a cold shower.

***

"Hey," Marcel said softly, putting the tv on mute as Louis walked into the living room.

"Hi," Louis smiled, sitting down next to him on the plush couch.

"Had a good shower?" Marcel asked, noticing his damp hair.

Louis felt his cheeks redden once more, and wanted to punch himself for blushing so easily all of a sudden. "Yeah," he said instead. "It was nice."

"Hey, by the way." Marcel said, sitting up a little straighter, looking somewhat nervous. "I don't want to offend you or anything, but... I know that you don't have any clothes besides the rehab ones, and I just wondered, if you uhm. Wanted to borrow some of mine?"

Louis opened his mouth to agree, when Marcel cut in with "I'll take you shopping soon, of course! I just- for the time being."

Louis giggled. "Yes, Marcel. I would love to borrow some of your clothes, thank you." He almost wanted to say that he did not need to go shopping, that living in their clothes and be able to breathe in their scent and cologne constantly would be just fine, but that felt a smidge too creepy, for now.

Marcel nodded. "Great, then I'll- I'll go get some. Please stay here, and I'll be right back."

Louis stifled another giggle as the green-eyed man almost fell off the couch in his haste to get some clothing for him, before he disappeared down the hall. As he waited, he gazed around the room, inspecting the art hanging on the walls. They were beautiful, abstract paintings using mostly grey, black and white. It was those kinds of paintings that you had to look at for a while before you cold distinguish the motive.

"Here," Marcel said as he threw a pile of clothing to Louis. It was a pair of grey sweats, a white tee and a black hoodie. Louis smiled gratefully at him, slipping the hoodie on over his rehab clothes, keeping the rest in his lap to change into later.

"Thank you. And hey Marcel?"

"Yeah?" Marcel sat back down next to him on the couch, looking over at the boy and tried not to coo at how he absolutely drowned in his hoodie, even though he had tried to pick his smallest one.

"Where is your paintings from?" Louis asked, pointing towards one of the paintings, an abstract piece of two hands, looking as if they were reaching for each other from either side of the stretched canvas.

"Edward's made them, actually." Marcel hummed. "He used to be one of those moody kids in school, sitting in the back and drawing in every class. How he managed to get a psychology degree still baffles me to this day."

"Wait- really?" Louis gaped. "They are so good."

"You sound surprised," Louis looked around as Edward entered from the kitchen area. "I am good at more than running my mouth, believe it or not."

"No I wasn't—I just, they look professional." Louis felt nervous, why was he so on edge?

"Calm down, baby." Edward chuckled, walking over and kissing the top of his head softly. "And thank you, I am rather proud of these myself, actually."

"You'll have to teach me someday," Louis said before he could stop himself.

Edward raised his brow somewhat in surprise. "You'd like me to teach you?"

Louis nodded hesitantly.

"I would absolutely love to," Edward broke out into a grin. "We'll have to make sure to make time for that. Just a warning, painting gets messy."

"Is that an innuendo of some kind?" Louis shot back, tilting his head.

Edward chuckled; his pupils dilated somewhat as he looked down upon the smaller boy on the couch. "That love, is for you to decide and me to find out."

Louis was going to die in this apartment, he was absolutely sure of it.


	23. Ch. 21

"So," Louis began as he walked into the kitchen, seeing the three men sat by the marble kitchen island. "What's on the schedule today?"

"I'm not sure," Harry hummed. "I mean- Whatever you're comfortable with, of course. Marcel said something about maybe shopping for some clothes if that'd interest you?"

Louis glanced over at the youngest of the three who put down the paper he was reading and nodding. "We can do that today, if you want."

"I'd love to," Louis said, looking down at his hands that were almost completely hidden under the long sleeves of Marcel's hoodie that he had not taken off since last night. It smelled nice, okay? "But I'm not—I don't have any money... Like at all."

He felt heat rise to his cheeks as the shame bubbled to the surface. He hated being poor, having nothing. It made him feel so small and so helpless, having to rely on first Niall, which gave him even more guilt, and then the home.

"Babes," Marcel said as he stood up and walked the two steps it took to get over to the smaller boy. "I will pay everything for you. And before you say anything, it's not because I feel like I have to, but I want to."

Louis looked up at his face, seeing nothing but sincere meaning behind his eyes, and nodded. "Okay," he said. "You want to. When should we leave? And are you guys coming with?" He directed the last part to the two others still sat at the kitchen island.

"Sorry hun," Harry said sadly, shaking his head. "I've got to head into work, but Edward might."

"I think I should let the two of you have some alone time," Edward said after a moment's thought. "The house needs some cleaning done, anyways."

Louis snorted at that, looking around the spotless kitchen. "Cleaning, right." He turned back to Marcel. "I need to get ready, have a quick shower. But we can leave in like thirty minutes?"

"Sounds good to me," Marcel nodded, kissing Louis atop the head before walking past him to get ready himself.

***

Exactly forty-five minutes later, Louis and Marcel both sat in the triplets' car. Louis had had a breakdown over having to take Marcel's hoodie off, because apparently you couldn't go out in the same shirt you had worn the previous day and also slept in. He had only given in when Marcel had supplied him with another sweater of his, this one was sadly clean and did not smell like him, but Louis guessed it would have to do.

"There's a mall about ten minutes from here that I think will have what we're looking for," Marcel said as he started up the car and drove out of the underground garage.

Louis nodded silently, watching the scenery outside pass by as they drove towards the highway that would take them to the shopping mall. He must have zoned out somewhat, because next thing he knew the car had come to a stop. He looked up, seeing that they stood in a Starbucks drive-through.

"What—"

"Didn't think I'd actually let you skip breakfast, did you?" Marcel said, placing a comforting hand on Louis' knee. "You can get whatever you want," he added softly.

Louis swallowed. Food had been a struggle even before the drinking had started, and then only getting worse when he put his money towards booze instead of food. Ever since he had gotten to the home it had gotten a lot better, but that did not mean he was completely over his struggle with it. But, he thought. This was Marcel trying to be nice, and comforting. He would do anything for Marcel, everything.

He gave Marcel a small nod to show that he had made up his mind and he drove up to the small speaker to order. He made his order of an americano and a chocolate croissant, and then turned to Louis who clicked off his seatbelt and leaned over Marcel towards the speaker outside of his window. He heard Marcel's breath hitch as he leaned over, knees on his own seat and forearms resting on the pulled down window on the driver's side door, back curved and ass sticking out. Louis pursed his lips to keep his smile in, he might have tested what reaction he'd get, and he was not disappointed.

As Louis had finished stating his order, he leaned back into his own seat, catching glimpse of Marcel adjusting himself. He almost choked on a laugh, but said nothing.

"Good, so," Marcel cleared his throat as he hastily drove them up to the next window to pay. "Let's—Breakfast."

Louis had to put a hand over his mouth to stifle his giggle this time, the man had gotten so flustered, and from what? He felt something like pride bubble in his gut, the power he held over this man.

They parked their car on the nearby parking lot to eat their breakfast, sipping their drinks in comfortable silence for a while.

"So," Louis started as he put down his cup of chai latte, small smirk playing on his lips. "You seem a bit flushed, is there a problem? If you feel unwell, we can go home."

He received a glare from the older man. "Shut up, you knew exactly what you were doing."

"Oh whatever do you mean?" Louis laughed, shielding himself when Marcel tried throwing bits of his croissant at him.

"You won't do that again, or we won't go buy any clothes." Marcel said.

"Do what?" Louis continued feigning innocence; it was just too much fun. "You'll have to be more specific."

"Tease me like that, in public." Marcel answered, giving him a stern look. Louis felt something stir in his gut as he met his eyes.

"Oh so it's only okay in private, then?"

"You know what I mean."

"Or is it only okay when..." Louis had no idea where this spurt of confidence had come from, but he spoke without even thinking, voice quieter. "When you can do something about it?"

He saw fire behind Marcel's eyes, a sort of longing he never knew existed in the over-achieving, goodhearted, somewhat strict man. Marcel sighed, clenching his fists to try and control himself. Most of all he wanted to drive back home and show Louis exactly what he would do about it, but they had to get clothes.

"Please just behave," he groaned as he pulled out of the parking spot and drove the rest of the way to the mall, feeling as he would regret that decision.

***

Edward had his brow scrunched in concentration as he let the brush travel across the canvas. The key to honest art, he told himself, was to not think but only do. But it was hard, with everything going on his mind was whirring constantly. Thoughts about Louis, about them breaking the rehab's rules, and their very dangerous and frail relationship seemed to always cloud his mind's eye.

He sighed; this wasn't working. Defeated, he put down his brush, closed the lids of al the colours and packed his palette in saranwrap for later use. He had pondered a lot about this thing they had going on with Louis, and what it could lead to. Having him here for a month was against Edward's better judgement, he knew it came with an enormous number of risks, but he had let his emotions steer him just this once. It was just—He seemed so much happier there, with them. Or maybe it was just there, not them, that did the trick. Edward hummed to himself as he stashed the paint away in their cabinet and washed his hands clean before exiting his studio.

The apartment was strangely quiet, he had not been here alone in a long time. Come to think of it, he had not been alone at all for a very long time. He didn't like it. His thoughts, his... Doubts became even louder when he had no one to distract himself with.

It would be fine, he told himself as he sat down in his office, powering up his computer to do some work, find something to distract his mind with. They knew what they were doing, they would be fine. But there was that little nagging part at the back of his head, persistently disagreeing. What if it wasn't? What if pursuing a relationship with Louis when he was this vulnerable was only for their sake, only for selfish gratification? He shook his head, focus falling back to his files.

No, it was fine.

But, the voice said. What if it wasn't?

***

Edwards head snapped up when he suddenly heard the sound of the door unlocking, and voices in the hall. Louis and Marcel were back. Edward immediately closed down his laptop and went to meet them, helping with the bags of clothes they had with them.

"A good shoppingtrip, I see." He said as Louis dumped two full bags in his arms.

"I tried to get less," Louis said as he toed off his shoes. "But Marcel was insistent on me trying everything the store had to offer—"

"Well not everything," Marcel defended himself.

"And then stating that it looked amazing and we had to buy it when I tried it on." Louis finished as if Marcel had not even interrupted.

Edward nodded, smiling when he peered into the bags in his arms. "A lot of tight jeans, it looks like. Want to explain yourself, Marce?"

"I hate both of you and I am going to have a shower," Marcel said as his face turned red.

"Hopefully a cold one!" His older brother shouted after him making the two of them bend double with laughter.

"Fuck off!" Came Marcel's faint shout from the bathroom, making them laugh even harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're all doing okay, remember to take care of yourselves. These are some hard times but I hope you can find some way to cope <3 Fyi mine is hanging an enourmous amount on here lmao. See you soon!


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